I M Perfect lady

Tag: Imperfect

  • My Sunday Art

    Yesterday I played in fabrics and designs, colors and textures….and here are two pieces that I completed.

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     I had made angels last year, and wanted to do another.  I believe I can just do "Ladies" with wings.  I will try that later….

    Here is a close up of the ball of energy…

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    And here is a Lady I have been working on a long time.  I did the background, added the Lady, and then yesterday the vase of flowers and completed the quilting.

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    When you step back from this one, it looks like you are looking through a window at a woman looking through a doorway….

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    I have so much fun doing the quilting, it is like drawing with thread… 

    The water I painted using a paint that works like dye.  I still may add beads, but the sewing by machine is done.

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    When I am done playing I feel so full of energy….like somehow the energy of the colors fill me up!  I love the process of creating…

  • My Ladies come alive!

    Sometimes in life the Universe offers you a glimpse at someone who is a delight to watch and listen to.

    She arrived wearing a black hat, set jauntily on her head and big interesting jewelry all off set on an outfit in black.

    Around the room she went introducing herself, holding your hand, looking you in the eyes and repeating your name.

    She immediately changed the energy of the room, at least for me.

    As she gave her message, she was delighted with herself and her Art, asking for others to join her vision.

    Her Art is a community project; it involves everyone who is open and willing to share.

    She envisions 10,000 individual stories all hung together joining a long line of connections, weaving the past to the present, showing the walks of many who have walked upon the same roads we travel today.

    Her idea is to see whose shoulders you stand upon.

    Written in the first person, a story and a picture, all hanging together in a line of humanity, their lives, their struggles, the journey of their times, told by someone today.

    The Art will be displayed this summer at an opera and a music festival.

    She needed help with panels upon which the story will rest. Some of us will lend a hand in making her vision possible.

    After she involved us in her Art, she then sat back and enjoyed ours.

    It was fun to watch her engage life, how she seemed to hang on each second, paying close attention to what was at hand…astute, curious and involved and very much her own self and very comfortable there.

    I have to admit that I wanted to share my quilts with her, just to watch her reaction.

    I was tickled when she smiled and literally gave me a thumbs up, very pleased.

    She epitomizes my ladies or my ladies are a reflection of her!

    What is the saying life imitating Art…

    It was like seeing one of my Ladies come alive!

  • Act of Forgetting.

    I was greeted at a mailbox yesterday by a bundled up smiling lady, her eyes bright and her cheeks rosy, I handed her her mail, commenting on one letter.

    It was a card from her to someone, and I had brought it back for her.

    She had just put the person’s name, but no address or stamp. I said we didn’t know where her friend lived and that usually we needed a stamp.

    She chuckled with delight at herself, finding her error funny and looked at me shyly.

    I told her we brought it back for her to finish; she smiled and said, “thank you, I am glad you did,” clutching it to her chest.

    I explained to her that we didn’t know her friend or where she lived, but that if she could help us out with a few more hints, we would deliver it….

    I left her standing there, arms full of mail, smiling at herself…”keep warm”, she said as I drove away…”I will, and you too” I hollered back.

    Her energy and spirit rode along with me in my jeep, amidst the boxes and packages, bringing a smile to my face every now and then…picturing her delight when she seen her half written card and her eyes as they met mine.

    A kindred spirit.

    For I recalled my daughter’s comment to me that morning, “Mother you left all the cupboard doors open.”

    I smiled that same smile seeing the evidence of me making a cup of tea, caught in the act of forgetting.