Well, I wasn't really happy with how this fold and clamp turned out. And I am a little frustrated. It's ok, but it doesn't have that Wow! factor that makes me say, "Oh my that color is so beautiful, I can't believe I did it." And if I'm not totally excited, what's the point. The problem is that there was too much yardage being folded. That's why I like the pole wrap when I have large pieces to dye and that's what I'm going to do with this fabric, shibori dye it again, using the pole.
My Dear,
Rose
was frustrated, to say the least. She knew by the way her words paused, by how
she was so careful about what she spoke.
“Is
your writing always so erotic?” She asked Clove the first time they wrote
together.
“Only
when I get close to the bone,” Clove answered.
“And
when does talk become sex?” Rose asked.
“When
the writing is close to the bone, where the passion rides, like in a simple
conversation.”
This
was a time for Rose to get organized, but there seemed to be another kind of
organizing she wanted to do. There was the organizing of her mind and setting
of priorities, which seemed too much work, and the only way to begin was to
write her memories of last night’s dinner party:
excerpt from the Garden Girl Letters and Memoir
