I am perpetually taken with texture. As I sat yesterday, waiting to pick up Emily from school, I looked down and saw the wool, against the cotton. My hand peeking out of the sleeve. The richness of each piece making the others shine.
|The bear in Snow White and Rose Red|
Perhaps it is my affinity with textiles that make me preternaturally sensitive to such things - some sensory need that makes me want to immerse myself in them, like sinking down into a hot bath.
I don't have much else for you on this cold, rainy November day. I feel empty and old today, but I know it will pass.
Tonight I will work on more of the Snow White and Rose Red rug. The bear pleases me beyond measure - his movement, his motion, his colour, the last minute decision to ring his neck with flowers - all of it. This is how I know my odd little intuitive way of designing rugs works for me. The pieces knit themselves together as I go along. And I already have my teacher dying me wool for the next rug - which will be Little Red Cap, so I am planning the wolf, in all his glory.