Today I revisited an early collage that was done on a smaller piece of paper. Once I settled in to the 12” X 16” sized format some of my previous pieces called out to me for more background or a larger margin. The collage that I tackled today seemed to need one such margin. I decided to try printing with my new hand cut wood textile blocks. My daughter brought them for me from London where she found them at Camden Lock Market. The shop carried items from India and even demonstrated printing on fabric while she was there. I intend to buy some printing ink, since both my attempts to use stamping ink and acrylic paint were not as successful as I would have liked. Some of the intricate pattern does peek through on the new border around the collage. My next attempt will hopefully feature the designs in a more obvious way.
My sewing machine will again be used to sew through paper on this collage. Spray adhesive didn’t hold the edges down sufficiently and a few lines of stitching should remedy the problem. The text on the collage comes from a Nineteenth Century Shaker Hymn. I was familiar with the words but still can’t remember if I heard the song at a high school choir concert or at a church service. At any rate, the phrase rings true to me. I am finally at a point in my life where the simple things give me the most pleasure. Life was always such a rat race; I am happy to have the time to relax and take in some of life’s special moments.
Today started out cool and dry. Promises of 80° as a high, a nice breeze and a chance of showers were all delivered. One moment I was outside and the sun was bright and warm. As I returned inside a rain cloud opened and watered my plants for me. It was over too soon; came and went with the speed of those showers I remember in Florida. I do love the sound of raindrops hitting the metal roof on our sun room. It’s an added bonus that I have always loved the sound of rain and this sometimes loud noise on our roof only makes me happy. A wonderful floral and woody scent usually accompanies these downpours.
′Tis a gift to be simple. ′Tis a gift to be free. ′Tis a gift to come down to where we ought to be. And when we find ourselves in the place that’s right, ′twill be in the valley of love and delight.