Here it is, the sheep in the meadow crewel piece. Actually, here is the picture of it, the actual piece is at Stitchville USA being "finished;" that is, stretched, matted and framed. I’m having it framed without glass, because some of the stitches are three-dimensional and I don’t want them squashed. And besides, I love the way light plays on it from different angles, something best perceived without glass getting in the way. The only sad thing about it is how much the finishing is going to cost me. I think I paid something like twenty dollars for the kit to make it and if you add that to the finishing price, we are coming close to two hundred dollars. That’s an awful lot of money; I think if I find myself falling in love again with a piece of needlework, I’ll buy a book on how to finish these wonderful pieces myself.
I’m not sure why I love this one so much. It was love at first sight, too. I loved the model – though mine came out somewhat differently – I loved working on it (when I worked on it, I set it aside for a long time when I realized how many hours it was going to take to do that meadow, one blade of grass at a time), and I love it finished.
I remember once, a long time ago, I held a salon at our house, inviting all my guests to bring something they loved and to be prepared to give a little talk about it. Back then I loved a bronze sculpture of a little herd of horses galloping down a steep incline. I think horses are beautiful and some of my happiest hours have been spent on horseback. Everyone who came felt a passion for the object he or she brougt. I learned a lot about those people that day, about eloquence, and about love.
Is it wrong to love a mere object? I don’t think so. These things often contain memories of happy times, or they represent something which the owner is proud of, or they remind the owner of a difficulty overcome.
If I held another, I would bring out that piece of crewel work. Somehow I know that place, it represents happiness. Plus it was immensely satisfying to work – all those hours spent, and it came out well.
If you were invited, what would you bring?
I’m not sure why I love this one so much. It was love at first sight, too. I loved the model – though mine came out somewhat differently – I loved working on it (when I worked on it, I set it aside for a long time when I realized how many hours it was going to take to do that meadow, one blade of grass at a time), and I love it finished.
I remember once, a long time ago, I held a salon at our house, inviting all my guests to bring something they loved and to be prepared to give a little talk about it. Back then I loved a bronze sculpture of a little herd of horses galloping down a steep incline. I think horses are beautiful and some of my happiest hours have been spent on horseback. Everyone who came felt a passion for the object he or she brougt. I learned a lot about those people that day, about eloquence, and about love.
Is it wrong to love a mere object? I don’t think so. These things often contain memories of happy times, or they represent something which the owner is proud of, or they remind the owner of a difficulty overcome.
If I held another, I would bring out that piece of crewel work. Somehow I know that place, it represents happiness. Plus it was immensely satisfying to work – all those hours spent, and it came out well.
If you were invited, what would you bring?
8 comments:
I love that! It does look like a happy place, doesn't it? I'd bring the first 17th century reproduction sampler I did. I wasn't sure I could even do the work, but I got the kit anyway, learned the Montenegrin stitch, and it only took 2 years to finish it. I like it because it's beautiful, and because as a beginning cross-stitcher I took a chance and it paid off.
I'd be scared to death if I were there (animals, nature), but I LOVE it as a crewel piece.
I think I'd bring my robes from Fordham -- a little piece of the Bronx, plus memories of an amazing transformation. It was the sixties, after all.
Great idea, Monica.
Hey, I have NO idea why that comment came up as Joanna's!
It was from me, Camille/Margaret Grace.
I tried signing out and coming in again ... let's see how this works!
That is gorgeous.
It reminded me of an art exhibition I stumbled into in Australia, of all places. I went looking for a renowned woodworking shop near Canberra (where of course I bought lots of wonderful things), but at the time they were holding a show of one person's needlework upstairs. It consisted primarily of landscapes, executed in stitches so small they were all but invisible. Incredible! I wish I could have afforded one.
Found it:
http://www.bwoodworks.com.au/product_listing/55
It is a shame to let this very talented artist go unnamed: Judy Wilford
I love the crewel piece. I wish I could just step into the picture and be there.
If I came to your salon, I'd bring a statue I have of Don Quixoite an artist friend of my family made. When my parents replaced a couch, the old one was beyond giving away and hard to get down three flights of stairs, so I took it apart. The Don Quixote is made from some of the wood. I like the whimsical quality to the figure and the wood is still recognizable as being the couch leg.
I took the couch springs and used them in one of my college art projects.
Great Comments!
Betty, I love the idea of taking an old (maybe loved?) piece of furniture and turning a chunk of it into a memorable work of art.
I like the salon idea. Most quilt guilds have a show and tell at their meetings. The personal stories - why the quilt was made, for whom - are the best.
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