steph – well, aren’t you sweet. such a lovely comment, appreciated deeply for the feedback and the timing. have muchly enjoyed that link you send me about dying with clay. have already begun collecting in keen anticipation.
Beautiful work! I have to admit the first photo thru me, but seeing where it was, changed my thoughts ( head words) from a beaded quilt? to What a beautiful person with inspirational thoughts at her voicebox! Now the words can be aloud and spoken to last forever! For JOY, how warm and proud this person feels.
Your quilt is saying wonders! smiles, cyndi/ByLightOfMoon
oh, cyndi, if you only knew how much appreciated and well-timed your comments are. one day i’ll tell you about it. for now, just know i appreciate you stopping by and taking the time to candidly comment. must say you made me chuckle when you shared your initial reaction.
See … when I first looked at it yesterday I was thinking of the beaded section as a kind of coronation being given to your voice – making it an Empress of the Universe vis a vis your earlier musings on both silence and banishing a great number of books (other peoples’ words) to make more room for your own. Also I had a pleasant little fantasy about summer fruit so bounteous that some of it was spilled on the table cloth – a ‘stain of the child’ as this seemed like it would fit in with the autobiographical theme and, also, a perverse wink at the gleaming white gloves.
GREAT improv beading…have come to much greater awareness and appreciation of such things in the past year.
jude, it is rather shocking, glaring that first snapshot, isn’t it? full view tames it down quite a bit (thank goodness).
acey, interesting the interpretations i’m getting. like i told you offblog, i just “transcribe”, stitch into being these images that i’ve carried around for year. you know i was rather in angst yesterday about how i interpreted the beaded flower at the throat. just goes to show, doesn’t it? thanks for the compliment about the improv beading – i like that term. it’s only my third beading venture, so i feel all fumbled-fingered about it. fun take on this one, yours.
to all: i love your comments, your perspectives. thanks for taking the time.
Hi! I can honestly say that I’ve rhceaed the point in my life where there’s nothing I think I can’t do or accomplish, if I set my mind to it and then devote the time and energy, and never give up. Sometimes my estimated time frames are off (and sometimes off considerably), but nothing stops me anymore when I seriously believe something is possible.Frankly, there are days when I wonder if life might not be a lot simpler if I could just say to myself, Cheri, that is never going to happen, so get rid of the to-do lists and let yourself relax. Such words will never come out of my mouth, though, or even run through my head. And I suspect I’ll be working on something I believe I can do, no matter what happens, until the very end.Thanks for the great question. Very thought-provoking! All the best. Cheri
I see that the flower at your throat sparkles, like your words in your voice in my mind’s ear.
steph – well, aren’t you sweet. such a lovely comment, appreciated deeply for the feedback and the timing. have muchly enjoyed that link you send me about dying with clay. have already begun collecting in keen anticipation.
Beautiful work! I have to admit the first photo thru me, but seeing where it was, changed my thoughts ( head words) from a beaded quilt? to What a beautiful person with inspirational thoughts at her voicebox! Now the words can be aloud and spoken to last forever! For JOY, how warm and proud this person feels.
Your quilt is saying wonders! smiles, cyndi/ByLightOfMoon
oh, cyndi, if you only knew how much appreciated and well-timed your comments are. one day i’ll tell you about it. for now, just know i appreciate you stopping by and taking the time to candidly comment. must say you made me chuckle when you shared your initial reaction.
quite an unusual approach, shocking in its initial effect but soothing and expressive as a personal statement.
See … when I first looked at it yesterday I was thinking of the beaded section as a kind of coronation being given to your voice – making it an Empress of the Universe vis a vis your earlier musings on both silence and banishing a great number of books (other peoples’ words) to make more room for your own. Also I had a pleasant little fantasy about summer fruit so bounteous that some of it was spilled on the table cloth – a ‘stain of the child’ as this seemed like it would fit in with the autobiographical theme and, also, a perverse wink at the gleaming white gloves.
GREAT improv beading…have come to much greater awareness and appreciation of such things in the past year.
jude, it is rather shocking, glaring that first snapshot, isn’t it? full view tames it down quite a bit (thank goodness).
acey, interesting the interpretations i’m getting. like i told you offblog, i just “transcribe”, stitch into being these images that i’ve carried around for year. you know i was rather in angst yesterday about how i interpreted the beaded flower at the throat. just goes to show, doesn’t it? thanks for the compliment about the improv beading – i like that term. it’s only my third beading venture, so i feel all fumbled-fingered about it. fun take on this one, yours.
to all: i love your comments, your perspectives. thanks for taking the time.
Hi! I can honestly say that I’ve rhceaed the point in my life where there’s nothing I think I can’t do or accomplish, if I set my mind to it and then devote the time and energy, and never give up. Sometimes my estimated time frames are off (and sometimes off considerably), but nothing stops me anymore when I seriously believe something is possible.Frankly, there are days when I wonder if life might not be a lot simpler if I could just say to myself, Cheri, that is never going to happen, so get rid of the to-do lists and let yourself relax. Such words will never come out of my mouth, though, or even run through my head. And I suspect I’ll be working on something I believe I can do, no matter what happens, until the very end.Thanks for the great question. Very thought-provoking! All the best. Cheri