Date: 1 October 2012
Once a year I gather with some stitching friends to spend two days working on our needlepoint and embroidery. This year, I spent 8 hours of my annual stitching weekend actually stitching. I was there from 9:00am to 4:30pm both days. So, it seems I just managed to spend slightly more than half my time on the task at hand. The rest of the time was spent eating and socialising, wandering around the room chatting and learning and viewing other works in progress. It is interesting to see what everyone is up to and while so much of the conversation is spent on the topic of time - how little or how much progress we've made - the things that stick in my mind are the chosen images and the complexity of the work.
At the end of the weekend I was pleased that I had done the hard bits at the annual weekend. I've done this in previous years as well. Not that I planned it that way. It just kind of happened. I find the heavy wool stitching is rather slow and hard on the fingers. The wool needs to be pushed and dragged through the canvas. So, it was good to tackle that while I was sitting next to someone chatting away. I barely noticed that my fingers were sore and tender at the end of each day.
At home at the end of the stitching day, I feel humbled by the stories shared, the grief, the hardship, the worries for those not with us, the endurance of upbeat people. I feel humbled and odd. I wish sometimes that I felt a stronger urge to share my own stories, but for some reason I am reticent. Instead I like to talk of adventures not yet had, so I tell of my bushwalk to come. They listen politely.
While I am watching 'The Deadlys' I drift through thoughts of respect, tolerance and politeness and I reflect on lives long since gone.
In positive times... have met a stitching milestone by reaching the 3 year mark on one side. As noted before, I like to break down seemingly impossible tasks, so I've divided this canvas into ten segments. I am making good progress. This is satisfying.
After putting in rows and rows of impressionistic water, and shaded wool steps along an Edwardian promenade in seaside France, I am now about to stitch a long and short stitch, ostrich feathered, hat. I sit with one of the ladies who has done many, many long and short stitch canvasses and discuss technique, trying to memorize her skills through conversation. I have started a pinterest board on The Ferry and have collected some amazing images of Edwardian hats. They loved them broad brimmed and overflowing with feathers and flowers. It was opulent.
As we know from some of my previous posts, the artist E. Phillips Fox, whose tapestry I am reinventing, was married to Ethel Carrick Fox. Recently there was an article in the Canberra Times looking for some of her paintings. If you click through on the link you'll see why I love Canberra. One of Ethel Carrick Fox's paintings conveys the sharp blue sky and brilliant yellow autumnal colours of Canberra.
In the final wrap up from the weekend, we've started a give-a-ways table for people to pass on the bits and pieces they've stored but most likely will not use. I picked up a couple of books and some 40 count gauze with a tiny pansy stitched on it.
40 count gauze....tiny, tiny.
Previous posts
The Ferry: Just before the annual stitching weekend (September 2012)
The Ferry (September 2012)
Back to the Ferry (May 2012)
The Ferry tapestry - progress after Tapestry Guild weekend (October, 2011)
The Ferry tapestry - the 2011 September Tapestry weekend (Sept 2011)
The Ferry - E.Phillips Fox - Baxtergraphix Tapestry (April 2011)
