I have been faffing about long enough – the faffing I always do before I start an important (to me) quilt. It isn’t purely wasted time as a lot of thinking goes on during that time, and a lot of mulling over things like colours and materials, proportions and possible techniques. That is not to say that all those things are set in stone now, but the idea is strong enough in my mind, to begin.
Dreamland in Margate is going to play an important role, as is my Nana
I had this turned into a photograph, from a slide that I thought I remembered from my childhood. However, I thought it showed Nana alone on the beach with just a wall behind her. I love all the old-fashioned goings on behind though, especially the lady pulling up either a jaunty red swimsuit, or some rather louche bloomers! Cor! Changing on the beach was a challenge in those days!
My Nana I am proud to say is a model of decorum, and I want to catch something of her elegance amidst the vulgarity.
I have some Oakshott cotton collections – Earth, and Atlantic, plus a quarter of Gabbro, and I have added some textural elements – some satin scrim, some gold flecked something or other, chiffon, and Angelina Fibres, but I am aware that I must keep it balanced. The sea is such an exciting element I mustn’t get swept away! I know there is no sea in the image – but it is there in my imagination.
I have doodled in the sketchbook, and am ready to start mapping out the cutting plan.
I am short of one important element though – so if you would all like to look under your carpets I would be most grateful! I need to get a Thermofax screen made and I need a really good image of the horse racing pages from an old newspaper. My dream image would come from a 1964 copy of The Daily Mirror, or the Racing Post, just a high quality snap of the 3.00 from Kempton race card, or similar….
I can’t believe that Google has let me down on that!
My Nana loved nothing more than to spend the day at the bookies. She was the perfect Nana, living as she did, at the seaside, and every morning she would get my brother and I to pick ‘our’ horses. Whilst she carefully studied the form, my brother and I went for the best names and our method was obviously the best, as every teatime without fail, there would be half a crown beside our tea plates – our ‘winnings’ Nana told us. It is a wonder that we aren’t both gamblers – although I must admit I find it hard to walk past a Penny Shove (okay 10p shove these days), on my rare visits to touristy seasides!