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Me and my ugly child …

February 20, 2018

Earlier this year while enjoying embroidery, I thought I might try weaving; especially after seeing the work of Hannah Rygen at the Modern Art Museum in Oxford.  I have been teaching myself and the results are mixed.

There is a right and a wrong way to weave and once that lesson is learned, and it seems most weavers have been doing it a life time like printers I have found, then one can become creative.

After a couple of near disasters, I decided to make a last-ditch attempt. After all this embroidery lark was only going to be for the winter, wasn’t it?

Still with China Mieville in mind, and the ships coming and going to the island and while its inhabitants were watchng for God.  Having already embroidered a galleon as it sailed away I decided to weave a picture of those that that have been wrecked on the rocks in the bay.

Two hulks lay broken and wanton on the rocky shore as the tide ebbed.  The idea was good and in my mind, it worked as I said only three weeks into a lifetimes practice there is room for improvement.

However, I didn’t wish to abandon my ugly child she had bought me joy over the last week or so; albeit at times through gritted teeth and frustrated tears.

I it turned over and began carefully stitching in the warps and wefts that dangled miserably on the back.  Using some fine linen thread, the result is beautiful.  The hulks now covered by the tide, the sea weed lifted in great luscious fronds from the ocean making perfect resting place for the mighty ships.

My ugly child blossomed; in my dreams …

2 Comments leave one →
  1. February 20, 2018 1:32 pm

    In waking life too!

  2. February 26, 2018 1:10 pm

    It’s true; that which you struggle to make by hand remains a joy forever. Nothing can detract from that sensation of euphoria when the object of your toil it there, complete, in front of you.

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