Thankyou Maggie, and thankyou Lynda.
Wednesday, 30 November 2011
The last two pages.
Friday, 25 November 2011
Strange fruit and vegs and other things.
I used a Brussels sprout and lemon to make other prints and was quite surprised by how well they worked. All the work will be posted on my other blog when I have completed the chapter.
I have just had a nice surprise and learned that I have won one of Maggie Grey's Birdie brooches in her giveaway. I will post a photo of it when I receive it. I can't say I never win anything now, can I?
Saturday, 19 November 2011
My little book is growing.
Four more pages. The one below suggests the line 'but nowhere are the one's I've sown'.
Followed by 'Instead the garden's full of thistles, daisies, clover, stinging nettles'.
Over the years, I have collected some very nice wild flower rubber stamps and used them for these two pages. I didn't have one for stinging nettles though - you'll have to imagine those. I tore rough squares of good drawing paper, applied gentle colour from Tim Holtz Distress Ink pads and stamped the flowers using the same inks but in a darker green. The daisy petals were coloured with a white gel pen and I used water soluble crayons for everything else. At least I drew the grass myself!! I pierced holes all round the edges of each piece of paper to make the stitching easier when I applied it to the page.
This pages precedes the other two in the book and so I should have loaded it to appear before them. I had problems loading them and am just pleased to find them on here at all. I made the little tree on water soluble fabric and hand stitched the commercial flowers in place and added a few bits of greenery.
I have broken my self imposed rule to work each page in correct order. This is the last page and I can't tell you how many times I tried to make a convincing looking chair! It's quite tricky getting sufficient detail to identify the object when working so small. This is the best effort to date, but could be superceded if a better one comes along.
There are four more pages to work on and they will be the most difficult I think, as they involve birds, bees and butterflies. One of these days I'll make life easy for myself and take up knitting squares for blankets.
Monday, 14 November 2011
A small adjustment and hopefully a slight improvement.
I realised when working on this, that I'd worked the previous stitched photos on slightly larger canvases but have none of those left. I'm trying to make use of the stuff I have and not buy more. The extra size gives a bit more room for additions and makes things much easier when adding the stitched elements. I must remember that in future.
A short post today as I have just posted on my other blog. I haven't been able to email my tutor yet as they have a malfunction in the email department. Hope it will soon be fixed.
Saturday, 12 November 2011
This and That.
Friday, 11 November 2011
You don't need a picture.
I came upon this poem in our local magazine and had read it recently elsewhere. I found it very moving, the moreso as it is written anonymously by 'one no longer fit and able to march'.
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.
'Why do you march, old man
with medals on your chest?
Why do you grieve old man
for those you laid to rest?
Why do your eyes gleam old man
when you hear the bugler blow?
Tell me why you cry old man
for those days long ago.'
'I'll tell you why I march, young man
with medals on my chest.
I'll tell you why I grieve young man
for those I laid to rest.
Through misty fields of gossamer silk
come visions of distant times
when boys of such a tender age
marched forth to battle lines.
We buried them in a blanket shroud
their young flesh scorched and blackened,
in a communal grave so newly dug
in bloodstained gorse and bracken -
and you ask me why I march, young man.
I march to remind you all
that but for those apple-blossomed youths
you'd never know freedom at all.
His comrades rest in peace - I hope there are times when he knows peace.
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS.
'Why do you march, old man
with medals on your chest?
Why do you grieve old man
for those you laid to rest?
Why do your eyes gleam old man
when you hear the bugler blow?
Tell me why you cry old man
for those days long ago.'
'I'll tell you why I march, young man
with medals on my chest.
I'll tell you why I grieve young man
for those I laid to rest.
Through misty fields of gossamer silk
come visions of distant times
when boys of such a tender age
marched forth to battle lines.
We buried them in a blanket shroud
their young flesh scorched and blackened,
in a communal grave so newly dug
in bloodstained gorse and bracken -
and you ask me why I march, young man.
I march to remind you all
that but for those apple-blossomed youths
you'd never know freedom at all.
His comrades rest in peace - I hope there are times when he knows peace.
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
A few additions.
Friday, 4 November 2011
A little rustic book.
My Garden:
I have a garden of my own
and in it are some seeds I've sown
like cornflowers, pansies, pinks and stocks,
forget-me-nots and hollyhocks.
For weeks and weeks I've paid attention
to my garden, not to mention
all the watering required.
And so I'm feeling rather tired.
I think how lovely it will be
when all my flowers are there to see.
With colours yellow, pink and blue,
the air will all be scented too.
Ah, now at last my plants have grown
but nowhere are the ones I've sown.
Instead the garden's full of thistles,
daisies, clover, stinging nettles.
But what is this before my eyes?
The sky is full of butterflies.
They flutter down, they love my weeds
and so do all the birds and bees.
With butterflies red, white and blue,
with buzzing bees and songbirds too,
I sit and gaze all summer long.
Can next year all my seeds go wrong?
Jean Streader.
I know I ought to try and centre the poem but am to scared to try. I might lose the whole thing and have to start again, besides which it's lunchtime and I'm hungry!
Tuesday, 1 November 2011
A beautiful afternoon.
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