She's done!

Yes. Cinders is done. While done with fairly basic blackwork and darning, stem, and satin stitches, this piece was quite challenging due to the format. As described in my first post about this piece, Marion encouraged us to change filling patterns and colors as we stitched.

I'm pleased with how my version came out. Here's Marion's original, for comparison. (Sorry about the flash. This is a photo of a photo.)

It's really interesting to compare and contrast these two versions. I've seen many instances where several people do the same counted canvas piece in a multitude of colors and threads (most recently on the website of Gay Ann Rogers), but I haven't seen it often in other techniques.

Have you seen other examples? Please tell us about them!

Drawing inspiration from reality

In my last post, I expressed my frustration with the small, even blocks in the background of Cinders. I thought that they should be more irregular, more in keeping with the actual construction of a medieval castle or manor house.

Edy commented, "Why not change the bricks into stones...a bit larger and not so regular...sort of like a stone wall? Just a suggestion, not that I'm one who should second guess Marion."

(Actually, based on the couple of classes I've had with Marion, I think she wouldn't mind being second-guessed. She, like most great teachers, encourages students to make a design their own.)

Regardless, I was already thinking along the same lines as Edy. Rather than potentially adding something more inauthentic, though, I turned to the internet. I learned that medieval construction did actually involve shaping roughly rectangular blocks out of rock, so I used Google Images to get some visual inspiration. Surprisingly, I found plenty of construction with small blocks, but rarely were these as evenly spaced as on the original Cinders.

Two images in particular helped me decide how to "build" the wall behind Cinderella. This photo shows that the blocks were often of similar heights, but surprisingly long blocks were interspersed with much shorter blocks. The front of this manor shows similar dissimilarities between blocks, and also shows that each row of blocks might be a different height than neighboring rows.

With the exception of the upper right corner, where I'm still ripping out the little blocks, I've applied these lessons to Cinders. After the upper right corner is done, I'll reevaluate to see if I need to fill in any of the blank areas.

I like the new look much better. Isn't it wonderful that we can do small research projects like this with a minimum of time thanks to the internet?

What about you?  Have you made changes to a project (or even designed your own project) based on images found online? How did it turn out?

Slowly building a wall

This week has seen very little progress on stitching projects. Between the EGA holiday party Monday night and various Christmas preparations, I haven't had much time to stitch in the evenings after a certain little person goes to bed.

So what stitching did I get done this week? Besides finishing the hair on Cinders (thank you all for your comments, yes, the hair is done!), I've worked on a few of the small bricks in the background of the same piece.

Not very impressive, is it?

While it's true that I've been busy with other things, it's also true that I've been hesitant to stitch these bricks. I swear, I've never had more bouts of indecision on any piece than I have with Cinders. The wall is the very last part, and I'm bothered by it.

Why, you ask? Well, the story of Cinderella is in medieval times, so I'm guessing the hearth she's sitting at is in a castle, or at least a large manor house. Is it at all realistic for such a dwelling to be made up of tiny bricks, all set very evenly?

Am I taking things too far? I can hear some arguing, "C'mon. It's a fairy tale, already. Why should it be realistic?"

I should buckle down and finish stitching the silly little blocks, just to call this one done!

Faith

Since May 2007, embroidery enthusiasts from around the world have been watching (via blog, of course!) the development of an embroidered jacket modeled after two examples from the 17th century. Along the way, the jacket acquired a name: "Faith", for the tremendous journey of faith it took for this vision to come to fruition.

Some details to consider:

• The project involved almost 260 people, from stitchers (some experienced, some first-timers), to lace-makers, textile manufacturers, and coordinators.
• Several 17th-century threads, such as Gilt Sylke Twist, were recreated for this project and are now in production again.
• When Plimoth Plantation canceled the exhibit for which the jacket was being developed, the volunteer efforts continued, with the belief that the jacket would be completed and exhibited somewhere. (Hence the name "Faith"!)
  

Today is the day. Faith is being unveiled tonight at Plimoth Plantation, and on the Embroiderers' Story blog. She even made the front page of the Boston Globe's metro section.

If you're visiting the blog, start with this post, and check out the posts that follow it, too, for lots of pictures of this magnificent accomplishment. Be sure to click on the pictures to make them bigger. Some can be clicked twice to make them REALLY big. If the pictures on the blog whet your appetite, you may want to visit Winterthur Museum in Delaware sometime between spring 2010 and early 2012, where Faith will be on exhibit for all to see.

Congratulations to Tricia Wilson-Nguyen, who was the driving force behind the project, and to all those who had the wonderful experience of contributing to such an amazing piece of embroidery history.

Striking fear into a counted-thread lover's heart

Two words:  RANDOM and NATURAL.

Those two words are part of the reason that Cinders has lingered in the WIP pile. While most of the design is counted, her hair is not. The hair is stitched in three shades of DMC floche using stem stitch, and it's up to the stitcher to place those lines of stem stitch more or less randomly such that it looks natural. Aack!

I cheated a bit when I started. I looked at Marion's picture of the original, and I used a pencil to sketch in the general flow that would be stitched in the darkest shade. For subsequent rows of stem stitch, I've tried to keep  random and natural in mind. Yes, I ripped out a bit, but I think I'm done.

What do you think? Do I need to fill in any of the spaces? Does anything look really odd?

The wonders of a good sugar scrub

It happens every year, but I never notice it starting. It just seems that with the onset of the cold weather, suddenly my hands develop rough patches that catch on every thread that comes near.

My favorite solution is a sugar scrub, which works temporarily at least. Here's my (almost free!) version of expensive spa exfoliation treatments:

1. Before sitting down to stitch, head for the kitchen. 
2. Pull a bottle of oil out of the cupboard and take the cap off. (I like olive oil for the smell.)
   
3. Take the lid off of the sugar canister.
4. Turn on the faucet. (It's important to do steps 2-4 first because it's really hard to do any of this once you've started putting stuff in your hands!)
5. Grab a teaspoon out of the silverware drawer.
6. Use it to scoop out a heaping teaspoon of sugar, and dump this in your non-dominant hand.
7. Pick up the bottle of oil, and pour a bit over the sugar in your hand. (You don't need much, but too much is better than not enough.)
8. Rub your hands together. (I'm assuming you've put down the spoon and bottle by now.) Pay special attention to the rough spots.
9. Rinse your hands.
10. Wash your hands, then wash them again. Be sure to get all of the oil off before starting to stitch!

Enjoy your smooth, snag-free hands! I sometimes have to do this more than once a day, but it only takes a couple of minutes, and it costs a few pennies at most.

What's your solution to rough winter skin? Answer here in the comments, or on your own blog - but be sure to leave a note here so everyone knows to check yours!