These cold winter evenings have been brightened with this project and the house is littered with spidery lengths of red thread that cling to any passing body. And offcuts of paper, fabric, lace and ribbon. Nothing is safe from my scissors. (It reminds me of the time my mother, on preparing to go out for an evening 'do', circa 1970, and following one of my 5 year old fabric scavenging sessions, took a large print evening skirt - like I say, it was 1970...- from her wardrobe, to find a doll-shaped sillhouette cut from the very middle of it. Not a good look for a dinner party. How, or why she didn't kill me I'll never know! I think the long skirt ended up as a mini, and my dolls were thereafter very well dressed, so all was not lost.)
I love the fat chunkiness of it, paper bursting, threads hanging. Scrappy indeed.
pages, waiting to be filled. I think it may last me the year, but I'm already planning the next one. I am addicted, for sure.