a Tiny description

a full time artist, stepmother, radio personality, and mom to an energetic Chug dog, tries to get through the days without committing a felonious act. My life is a rickety Zen circus.

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Thursday, October 25, 2007

"Fury"


I got this in the mail today from the gallery owner....here's some felted work...it's called Fury. now, you know there's a story behind it, but just a little one. Back in the old days (april-ish) when i still worked at my Big Girl job full time, i decided to take a day off. husband was going out of town, and the steppers were not scheduled to be at the house. so i planned Linda's Big Day of Felting. now if you've ever felted, you know how labor intensive it is. plus, i have to convert my kitchen into a koi pond in order to do it, because the garage is too darn cold or hot, and my upstairs studio is not water resistant. the floor is the ceiling from downstairs and neither is capable of ignoring THAT much water being poured upon them. so i empty the kitchen of all extraneous floor model things...shoes, garbage can, dog bowls, etc. Took a huge huge waterproof tarp thingie and spread it out on the floor, careful to duct tape it to the cabinets part way up in case of splashage. two of my looong folding tables comes in from the Testosterone Temple. Roving and yarns and netting and plastic sheeting and Dove for Dishes and buckets and whatall get dragged in and assembled, some spilling into the dining room area. pool noodles crash into the chandelier 4 or 5 times before i remember to look first. the coffee pot is loaded. the CD player is going. I lock the door from the garage to the kitchen Just In Case someone forgot something and comes in and blows all my nicely placed roving into a maelstrom. it was a wednesday. how do i remember that, you may ask? well, because wednesday is the day the steppers USUALLY come over, but Not This Wednesday because dad is out of town. he switched weeks, because what would be the point of visitation, when the vist-or was not there? so i spent the morning dyeing some silk, dried it and then began laying out the most beautiful pattern. to die for. your eyes wouldn't be able to behold it. half way through, the front door bangs open and in come boychild, who goes right to his room, cellphone in ear, grabs his guitar , comes back into the livingrom, turns on the TV. he is now on the phone, playing guitar, and watching TV. as the door opened, my zen flew out. i was beyond rage...it was FURY. i had finally carved out a few hours of peace and quiet for myself...diva was actually at Camp Grandma's for the day, even. and now BAM. so, what do i say...excuse me, but you have to leave? that doesn't seem right to do. i reminded him that his father wasn't here that night. oh he knew. had a fight with mom, so is going to crash here. THAT was it. i grabbed up all the roving and threw it in the air. decided i would NEVER EVER EVER felt again. EVER. there would never be enough peace to do it. as the roving floated back to the silk like snowflakes, it landed pretty much like you see above. i kinda liked it. and i figured, in for a penny-in for a pound. i couldn't waste all that roving, after all. so i felted and felted and rolled and rolled. finally - out of fury came Fury. and that, my friends, is a true story. Linda

2 comments:

Ricë said...

i LOVE that story! and i feel for you, i really do: i would be completely berzerk with anger if someone invaded my space. esp. when they weren't supposed to be anywhere around. you did good, girl, by making art and not commiting mayhem. . . .

and it's lovely. i'd like to feel it--is it soft?

henrysmom said...

it is sooo soft and light as a feather. it's such a wonderful, organic process, despite being labor intensive. to take the roving and urge it along with the rolling, till you feel it locking together. and knowing just when it's ready to full. to watch & feel it go from cotton candy-like wisps to a cohesive sheet of pure wonderfulness....nothing like it! want to learn? Linda