Down the Rosepath Again

 

Rows of X and O motifs in gaily colored Rosepath (sigh!) against a  background of black and gray prison stripes, suggest some of the complexities of romance, and seems Valentines-appropriate. (Or, that I'll never escape Rosepath).  Wearable cuff, sentimental, handwoven, closed with vintage Mississippi pearl buttons, and hand crocheted button loops, lined with dupioni silk,  I call them Hard Times for Valentines.

Rag mad

More we're not out of the woods yet rag and yarn panels, in Rosepath. When I have woven enough of them I plan to sew them,  cushion covers, and a deerskin bottomed sack, probably a back pack. My fascination with thready, raggedy weaves isn't wearing off. I hope I never find my way out of this woods. (On a walk up the road today, I practiced a little skipping, which felt pretty good).

Romantics

The melt and warm, lulling breeze makes it feel like spring, but there must still be a blizzard out there in the Dakotas with our name on it.  The February full moon shone along the creek, and was heartbreakingly beautiful last night.

The belated Hard Times Valentine here is just an idea for anyone to try next year.  It's another variation of the wound up rag surprise ball, this time made with vintage rag balls, with randomly sewn on texts  I cut from a bodice-ripper romance novel (discard from our library). I tried to pick out the juicier parts.

It could have held trinkets, tickets, jewels or anything inside.  Mine included  fragments of a lusty affair between Gilbert and Eugenia.  I don't know how it ended.  I cut the rag strips arbitrarily, so all the Valentines ended inconclusively. Maybe everything will work out in the end.    I love to unwind a rag ball, made by someone else, to see the fabrics that were part of someone else's story, the soft faded colors, lumpy textures,  unravelling threads, flannels, plaids, rayons and cottons.  They tell another story, an authentic story.