Moving is on the brain. It's consuming my thoughts, my blog, my very breath. I apologize for pouring my stress here but it's just an outlet with no strings, feels good. Remember, self responsibility, you choose to read (my disclaimer). Anyway, aside from all the financial hooks, commitments, sacrifices etc. etc. I escape to my studio. Lately I've been sewing and embroidering. I should be packing but I'm just not ready. I have sifted through my closet and tossed heaps of clothes in the 'giveaway' pile. Slowly I pull them out, cut them up and transform them into something new. I get bored and there is no pressure when materials come from the trash. My cousin gave me a huge bag of clothes that she was about to thrift and I've been playing with them. Most of her stuff is a bit to 'formal' for me. Take this dress for instance:
Fuchsia and satin, doesn't scream 'Bill the Girl.' I thought maybe if i added some western style embroidery it would tone it down. I spent hours stitching the pattern and when I finished I couldn't wait to flaunt my masterpiece. Well, seconds after slippin' in, I knew it would be the last time.
Too short! No way I can get away with no underwear and I certainly wouldn't think about moving off the bar stool that would reveal to much. It's up for sale. Take it or leave but this will be the first and last time you see me in something so, well, 'clubby.' Feel blessed, or appalled.
Fuchsia and satin, doesn't scream 'Bill the Girl.' I thought maybe if i added some western style embroidery it would tone it down. I spent hours stitching the pattern and when I finished I couldn't wait to flaunt my masterpiece. Well, seconds after slippin' in, I knew it would be the last time. 
Too short! No way I can get away with no underwear and I certainly wouldn't think about moving off the bar stool that would reveal to much. It's up for sale. Take it or leave but this will be the first and last time you see me in something so, well, 'clubby.' Feel blessed, or appalled.
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