Friday, January 06, 2006

Fragile Fragments

Today has been a great day. First thing this morning I had a lovely chat on line with two Australian friends and we discusses our current creativity. We all encourage each other to use our computers for designing our textile work of art. This is the group I mentioned in the post on Textile Art 12/31/05.

Then I finished a page for one of my Round Robin books for the same list. This book is called A Passion for Purple and I have stitched my page using a design inspired by a stained glass window I photographed whilst on holiday in Monaco. I like the result, but it may be a little bit restrained in style compared to my usual work, but I felt that adding to it would spoil it. This is the same stained glass window that I used for the article I wrote for The World of Embroidery magazine. I think I will be able to use this window over and over again.

I chose Fragile Fragments as the title of my book. When I was a child my favorite pastime each time I visited my grandmother was turfing in a drawer of one of her large cabinets. It was full of all sorts of interesting things for a child, loads of shiny buttons, a tiny hook used to button and unbutton boots, a shoe horn, a sock mushroom, pieces of my older brother's Meccano. There were four very hard chestnuts on a string that I used to look for someone to have a chestnut fight with. I had better explain here that my brother was brought up by my grandmother.

We are a Welsh family and Welsh is my first language. There was a tradition of carving a lovespoon for a sweetheart in the old days and my grandmother or Nain as I called her was given one by an admirer. It was so beautiful and was my favourite of all the things in that drawer. It was a double love spoon which meant it had two spoons, but one was cracked. I don't know if this was the reason it was always hidden in the drawer or was it perhaps because someone other than my grandfather had given Nain the spoon? I will never know the answer to this.

When Nain's house was being emptied the spoon disappeared, my mother later admitted she had thrown it in the bin and I cried. I would love to remember every detail of this spoon, but as soon as I try, the image becomes fragmented. This is why I started making sketches of it and eventually a design on my computer, which I developed into a piece of embroidery.


Robin Green Eye said...

Just beautiful, I love it, it has so much depth.

Grumpy said...

What a beautiful story Margaret! Reminded me of a brass ashtray my father was given to him by some people he helped during the way. It would have been a treasured possession of mine too, but like your spoon it disappeared and I often thing of it.

Helen Suzanne said...

Are these the same kind of spoons that I've seen in Wales where the joining handle of the two spoon bits are carved into a chain link? Isn't it strange how the memory can work. I often wish I could "see" the whole of the memory image in my mind's eye but it disolves like a ghost if I "look" directly at it.

A wonderful resource memories of dear ones are.