smitten

I have visions of threads, fabrics, beads, buttons, and whatever else I can get my hands on. I dream them. I view my world as blankets of fabric and threads. While others may see grass I see shades of green and brown fibers sewn on linen then washed with gesso or diluted acrylics. What others may view as skyscrapers in Manhattan, I sink into a world of gray and brown hand-dyed fabrics with thread-outlined windows and doors. I take in life with waves of colored fabrics, variegated threads, glistening with beads and buttons.

Gather more ribbons and lace and trims, sew on gold buttons, vintage beads, and antique jewelry. Keeping the rest of my life simple is easy, so it's surprising that I embellish my artwork so profusely.

If I feel down, I dip my hands through buckets of beads and buttons, and life brightens.

And the same happens when I'm at my computer writing, or dipping into one of my many journals, or reading lovely words written just for me.

Words, fibers, beads, buttons, paints and inks...I'm smitten.