I’ve had an idea rattling around my head for pretty much the past year. This is version I-can’t-even-remember-anymore and I’ll give you the short version here. Last year I turned 39 and it was tough! 39 kind of kicked my ass. I also spent a lot of time thinking about “turning 40 next year” and what THAT would mean. And I figured that if I’m lucky, I’m about halfway through my useful life. But 39 was tough.
First run through. Tension needs fixing.
I tried out the block printing in each line. By the end I felt like an actor rehearsing lines, trying out different emphases.
And the finale!
What did I learn from the challenge?
I loved adding writing. Composing an S on the fly under the needle is tough. My stitched cursive is better than my cursive on paper. Using a striped fabric helped keep my lines straight. Kids who can read should NOT be allowed to watch you do this project. I am awesome. 40 is so much better than 39.
Working on the self-portrait tonight and now I’ve got two cubes appliquéd to my background with some stitch in the ditch throughout. Trying to figure out what sort of quilting I should do in the background. And if the binding should match and be subtle or if it should be really fucking loud.
And in sad news today, I put the rainbow log cabin quilt in a giant bag under my bed. That is where all the half-quilted quilts go to languish and this makes #4. Plus three tops waiting for their backs. I continue to be caught between Scylla and Charybdis; my lack of free motion quilting skills slows me down, and I do not have enough time to quilt my quilts and improve my skills.
I hope the classical reference is sufficient to forgive my earlier vulgarity. Pulling out all the big words tonight!