March 6, 2013

The Story of Red: A Drama in Six Acts

Act 1:  I couldn't be more out of sorts. I have been begging myself to stitch but I cannot find a story.  Or even a path. Last night, I gave in and cut a pile of red and white squares. I plopped down in my chair with off-white thread, a needle, a zip lock bag of red scraps...and a lot of despair.  

Act 2: Fine, I'll just do it.  One square to the next. No expectations, no real love either.  At least my fingers are moving . I force myself not to look at the way the squares, which were all cut equally, are each taking on their own sizes. As the strip grows, I start to feel the coiled up place behind my eyes give way a bit. 

Act 3:  Yikes, three interlopers!  Hey...

Act 4: And then this happened. As fast as you scrolled down to see it. Really.

Act 5: And this.  Just as fast.

The pieces of old sari silk that I learned how to cord from a Jude video. I was having a great time making that cord a few days ago but stopped because I couldn't figure out what to do with it. Lucky for me,it figured it out all by itself.

Act 6: Now the brain coil has melted, the fingers are dancing, and I am grinning with delight.  Hey look, she has a friend!

Seed packets...the start of growth

Moral: its the doing, its the doing, its the doing. Sometimes, it will take you somewhere. Which may take you somewhere else.  In any case, you get to the best places when you're not looking. (Some of the red even jumped on to my Michigan cloth, putting an end to a longtime dry spell there, too.)   

I've got some happy seed packets that maybe will grow something else. Or not.  You know, people who create say that kind of stuff a lot but tonight, for the very first time, I really learned what it means. 

The End. 



  1. this is good because the colour you LOVE will
    carry you through. as i said on the forum
    blog...just keep going. something. and
    suddenly you will KNOW.
    i really love this post.
    can you hear the applause?????

  2. oh yes!! And "Keep Going," I should have tatooed on my forehead. Or my palms.

  3. Julie, I just love this--every single bit of it: your story in the "not finding a story," your exploration, your insistence on doing, just doing, and the place you are now--vibrant, exciting, enchanting, even