On a dreamy Valentine’s Sunday l watched the winter trees through my rain streaked bedroom window.
Structure
I read an article on pandemic fatigue which talked about how our days can become a blur.
In this portrait l began what l intended to be rows of neat cross stitch. The stitches rapidly became very freewheeling and turned into a net surrounding and holding me up.
This net is strong and flexible.
Without routines and schedules my task is to weave my own.
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Rainy day
blue skies
white clouds
Grey clouds
slow showers
rain
drops
like
fresh water
pearls
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Has Spring arrived?
tendrils
sunshine
snowdrops
catkins
Has
Spring arrived
at last
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Stormy
Today I looked out of my window and considered how I felt about the weather and how the weather makes me feel.
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Stitched Self-portrait Day 1
After stitching, l decided to write some words about how l was feeling. I typed them onto the back of my stitched portrait using my Royal typewriter which l had serviced last November.
Actually no. I dropped it off to be serviced at Francis Kay Vintage sometime in May. But he was so swamped with film camera, hi-fi stereo and other manual typewriter repairs that it took about five months for him to get around to it. BTW, this is one of my best investments. I paid a tenner for it at a car boot sale in 2008 and Francis said that he would sell this machine today for £350 through his eBay shop. 🙂
Day 1
heavy buried
lots of people saying
things they
think are important,
expecting my
response,
don’t want
to eng age
head achey
