There have been many things about being a Twelve which have been 'sweet'. The friendships, the personal challenge and development, the publication of our book and, oh yes, the fun of signing autographs in restaurants whilst at Festival of Quilts with the quilts. Life is such that good times like that are usually balanced with bad days but I can honestly say that looking back there have been none for me.
That is because they are not in the past. They happened this week. I am living the horror right now. I knew from the start what I was going to do for this theme. The story was about how the Ethiopian Government is forcing traditional pastoralists off their land in the Lower Omo valley to make way for sugar plantations. Human Rights organisations are concered about land rights, the loss of traditional ways of living and military quelling of dissent. Eco groups are concered about the effect of the associated hydro electric dam on the valley ( which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site) and further afield on Lake Turkana. I confess I was feeling a little proud of that interpretation of the theme.
Yeah. Pride. Fall. You know how that goes.
I have made an abysmal excuse for a piece of art and there is no way, reveal or no reveal, it is standing as my last 20/12 piece. I had the feeling early on that it was not working but I thought if I added the hand stitching it would come right. It didn't. So I got pen and paints out and made it far worse. Now, this happened to Diane too so I should not be suprised it happened to me as we are so alike. But it happened to her when she had time to make another one and I - wail! - simply do not. Nor will I until the holiday rush is over.
But seeing as you are all nice readers I will humilate myself and show the Dog for your amusement. It has no contrast. It is too literal an interpretation of a map of the UNESCO site with the sugar plantations superimposed and the rivers as my series-required thin blue lines. It is visually overcomplicated and distracting. You can't even see most of the writing and handstitching that I wasted hours on. And the paint dobs look like, well, to be honest, I am not sure what they look like but I am sure they do not reference the Omo tribe's body paint in the way intended. It does not even deserve the time for a decent photo so here it is trapped in my microwave door on its way to the kitchen bin.
There comes a time when one needs to walk away from the quilt and this is it.
I am sorry.
Weekly Art Project: Midpoint Review
2 hours ago