One of the things I like about making, is the evidence that I was here. Somehow, the length of time spent with a
piece is held within it.
My hand's gesture and touch stays with the
These streamers of cloth petals are a different way of thinking for me.
They are planned to be ephemeral.
time it takes to stitch each one seems to disappear. Look at these
drops / dots.
They seem to just be.
They exist like rain exists, or
dappled sunshine. They are only meant to be perfect for one day.
Looking at these I realize that I've never felt quite so close to
being like mother nature. She who paints with small marks like leaves, grass, clouds, in immense spaces... with confidence.
My streamers fall and
move with the breezes. When the wedding is over, they will have completed
their purpose. These not heirlooms.
They will have a brief performance like the poof of a piano sonata after months of practice.