Coming down out of the freezing sky with its depths of light, like an angel, or a Buddha with wings, it was beautiful, and accurate, striking the snow and whatever was there with a force that left the imprint of the tips of its wings — five feet apart — and the grabbing thrust of its feet, and the indentation of what had been running through the white valleys of the snow — and then it rose, gracefully, and flew back to the frozen marshes to lurk there, like a little lighthouse, in the blue shadows — so I thought: maybe death isn’t darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us — as soft as feathers — that we are instantly weary of looking, and looking, and shut our eyes, not without amazement, and let ourselves be carried, as through the translucence of mica, to the river that is without the least dapple or shadow, that is nothing but light — scalding, aortal light — in which we are washed and washed out of our bones. Author

Monday, 3 August 2015

JB-Crafting Supplies...Another Tag...Another Tale

 Todays creation is a design team make for the fabulous JB-Crafting Supplies. I have made another piece of tag art and as always it is a memory based item. For this tag I used this old english prayer from my stash as the basis, alongside these stamped pansies from the Joanna Sheen set of embroidered flowers. I have coloured the flowers and the lace with my promarkers and coloured the prayer using my distress ink. Both the tag and the backing paper is available from Julie over at JB-Crafting Supplies.
The memory that sent me to make this tag was remembering when my Grandmothers friends would come over for a tea party and would always put the world to rights during the course of their afternoon. More often than not they would all bring their sewing with them and their needles would flash in and out of their sewing whilst they chatted and laughed. At that time, the ladies did a lot of embroidery. They sewed tablecloths, chair backs, tray cloths, cushion covers and lots of other pieces of household linen. I always remember an embroidered pillow slip at my Aunt Aramintas...she had sewn a basket of flowers on the pillow case and every morning I would wake up with a perfect replica on my cheek. The french knots always hurt the

I am lucky enough to have samples of their work in my collection and have even sewn a number to join in with it. I also have a collection of scraps which I have bought from charity was so sad to see these perfect little pieces of embroidery just about to be thrown I have collected them and intend to make a patchwork throw using them all. Someone loved enough to make them to grace their homes and all that love must count for something.

Well the coffee is calling and I have some work to do. All my cats are in and out today as the wind is blowing. They can't make up their minds whether they love it or hate it. Raven is the only one that really loves it. She is running round and round the studio roof, sending holly leaves into the air. Most of the other cats are looking at her as if she's Jeffrey has just run back inside as the magpies have arrived. It seems as if they will never forgive him for going so near to their nest. So as the caffeine calls...until next time...take care and happy crafting.
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