Alert: For those who have come to this blog expecting information on some kind of mind-altering, consciousness-expanding substance that is more than likely illegal if not downright dangerous, move along. This is about embroidery. All embroidery, all the time.
Today I stitched a caterpillar in 17th century style:
I hate to admit this, but this is the first thing I've stitched this week that I am absolutely and totally happy with.
The sad fact is that I just don't stitch well in class. I'm a slooooooooooow stitcher, and classes are not set up for the way I work. Today I decided I was going to take my time, let the world go on without me, and work at my own pace.
And now I have a rainbow caterpillar to call my own.
The class I'm taking is a notebook class, meaning that we work on small samples of stitches that are collected in a book to be used for reference. Chris Berry, who is teaching the class, set up books for each of us that even have our own names on the fronts. We have space to make notes and put the samples we're stitching, along with the instructional materials for each technique. And she is a very thorough teacher who takes time to check each student's work.
Despite her talent as a teacher, my samples are basically crappy.
I've decided that, once I am home and in my nest again, I'm going to restitch each one, taking my time and using the threads and linen I like to use for my 17th century projects. This is going to be a valuable resource as I work on my casket--I've already found the perfect stitch for a tree trunk, and have an idea for some clothing based on what we've been doing.
Meanwhile, Baby Girl came up for a few days and she and I went gallivanting yesterday. There is a wonderful exhibit at the DeWitt Wallace on printed fabrics from the 18th and early 19th centuries. We wandered along Duke of Gloucester Street. I went to a lecture on raised embroidery yesterday afternoon and to a display of exquisite embroidery brought by one of the people who is a member of our retreat group while Baby Girl continued to explore. Last night, despite the windstorm that nearly picked us up and blew us away, we went to an evening concert in the Historic District.
We have only one more day of class, and then it's back to reality.
I'm not ready for reality.