I began sorting the beads for Blue and thought I would dye the silk for it yesterday but I'm out of silk...this put me in a tail spin to go through my fabric to see what I did have for dyeing which then led to a beginning attempt to organize (kinda, just enough) the stash by colour and value. After a bit, I thought, colour would suffice and I'd worry about value as I work on future quilts. I've waited too late in life to get anal now.
After the (kinda) organizing the stash, I threw some fabrics up for audition. The African fertility doll and the two rainsticks sit in the corner behind my front door. This photo is printed on silk and I've been wanting to use it for a while now...if it goes in this piece I'm seeing it would become the main focal point and the fabric with my poetry written on it would become a secondary focal point. I'm thinking the other panels that I'm going to write on will have to be the same poem with the circles over stamped. The poem is a tribute to timelessness of African movements and rhythms and music and dance as communicative elements with sacred energy. I wrote it as a teen-ager and even though it is not a poem I would read aloud at a reading, the sentiment and words seem more interesting as part of a quilt where they would become central to supporting evidence of designing with print and making quilts as communicative element with sacred energy.
Ancient African Music Makers, your rhythm flows through time reaching days that the sun has not touched. your rhythm, waiting there for the winds to catch up, moving sofastsofast.
Ancient African Ones, making musice that pulls us into memories of ceremonial movements where the gods recognized the dance by the design stepped out of the earth by dust black feet.
Ancient African Music, of a people that never will die because souls and soul live forever.