Missing waves and the sound of Seagulls

I grew up not far from the ocean in northern New England. I think whatever lays near you as you grow up is what stays close to your heart. I miss the lapping sounds of the ocean. I miss the squawking sounds of the seagulls. I miss those sounds overtaking all other sounds that surround me. I miss salty air. I miss the way the dawning light lays on the rippling water, I miss the way the moon reflects down and shines over us, providing nighttime light, just enough to see where we stand or sit or walk. I love knowing that I will pass one day but the beach and ocean will still be here, lapping, waving and reflecting the moon and sun all to the music of┬áthe gulls above. Nothing helps my aching heart more than the sight of New England’s water edges.

Old, Worn and Loved

Wow, has it been a year since I have posted ?? Really? It doesn’t feel that way….hmmmm….

I recently went on a fabric purchasing tour which led me into the bowels of a particular warehouse. I love the dark, creepiness of the battered wood shelving where old remnants lie awaiting their fate. Here, bundle upon bundle of fabric lay tossed into heaps as if unloved and forgotten. I have not forgotten them, I love them. They are attic treasures and I get to sift through their bodies in quiet solitude for few others bother to search these darkened aisles, feathered with cobwebs and old hanging lightbulbs to dimly light our way.
This trip, I found wonderful, soft blue ticking, over dyed by misfortune and tainted a soft fawn brown as if covered with stains. Yards and yards of this mis dyed and stained stripe lay there. It looked like it could be the fabric of my Grandfathers Apron, old, used, worn and loved. I walked out with armloads and on my way out on a different weather beaten shelf, I found the floral match. I smiled. Here was Grammy’s old Apron Fabric.

Great clothes begin with great fabric, or at least, fabric that inspires the designer.