
... and just in case you thought I'd lost my marbles:

Welcome to my reality, my attempt to make sense of life and the human condition through artistic expression. My blog is primarily about my fibre art, which reflects my feelings, experiences, and thoughts. Inevitably, mental turmoil comes into it, as it informs much of my work.
The jury is still out on whether it should be painted or not. Jessica votes No, she says, she likes that you can see what it's made of; I say Yes, because I think it could look really amazing if painted. The bowl is surprisingly strong. (I think I *will* paint it - it's mine, after all!)
A word of caution: Rolling all those pages is VERY hard on the hand muscles. I suffer from carpal tunnel syndrome, repaired in one hand but not in the other. After completing this bowl, BOTH my hands were numb, tingling and aching for days. I'm sad about that, because it was fun to sit and do and I'd love to make more and play with different shapes, but I do need to take care of my hands. If I lose the use of them, I'd be a wreck.
He sits and watches the needle go up and down, up and down, up and down. I had to stop when he tried to grab the thread - I am so afraid I will sew over his paw. But he really is small enough that he can lie in this space while I sew. And I guess the sewing bed is nice and warm to lie on.
Ahhhhhhh, it's the simple joys, isn't it? Whatever I'm feeling, this little mite can make it better, with his huge eyes gazing up and his little engine purring away...
Yup, I'm in love.
I fear I am falling in love with Mickey. He is SOOOOO affectionate and purry. I say "fear" because I know the hurt will be greater if there is more kitty-loss in our future (we've had a bad run), but it's better to have loved and lost and all that...
Reality is never absolute, and each person’s interpretation of reality is unique, and equally valid. When one’s reality is that of a ‘different drum’, not shared by many, one can feel isolated and alienated in the world, and withdraw, feeling not-understood. I am awed by art’s power to bridge this divide, and to communicate, connect and bring understanding where previously there was separation and alienation; where we were ships passing in the night.
If my work strikes a chord with another person, I feel heard, and it is my fervent wish that the reality of the viewer is likewise validated.