from the ground up –

I don't talk too much about process because I assume people either can see exactly what I'm doing, or they don't care how I get there so long as the result is interesting. This is the first of Bob's chicken portraits, of the Blue Polish hen. I had to put a layer of black silk under the hand dyed gray because the reds were showing through. I also have to dye some thick thread gray, if I can't find it tomorrow at the basic fabric store. The edges of her feathers are a lovely dark smoke color, and I'm looking forward to delineating them. 

I did manage to get pictures of some of Bob's chickens, this is the rooster in question. I also spent useful time in the studio accomplishing the background stuff; sorting, ripping, putting away. 

Also, have a sweet blue hen –

I had to go to the huge horrible mall to get this gorgeous thread. It is perl cotton in variegated colors, and aside from the fact that I was looking for deep yellows and they were out it was a pretty successful trip. From some exhaustive looking, I know this is the only place that carries it. I've tried online but freaked out because no one describes it the same way anywhere, and here I can poke it. 

Alice came, and we found her some string with wire in it so she can make some of the fancy knots she learned at the Origami Convention, and I found these lovely colors, and we stopped and played with the plastic animals until we realized we'd told Aerin we'd be back half an hour ago. 

Anyhow – I needed the yellow orange to complete this piece. If you can tell me what it is in the comments, I'll send you a chicken postcard. 

The chickens have been transformed into postcards, and are available on Etsy! I'm delighted. 

My room was a sweat bath the last couple days and I just couldn't take it. It moderated some last night, and I got a chance to finishe these guys this morning.

So! Seventy-five percent done!

I have two obvious titles (Approach and Avoidance) and one obvious title but I'm not sure which quarter to apply it to (Migration)  leaving me one (to be decided) that needs a title (also to be decided). I am guessing when they are all finished and set up on the wall that something will become clear in the naming department. 

I was so proud of these, until I was outside last night after taking five kids to the circus, and I looked up to check on the big dipper, and realized I'd gotten mine backwards! Grrrr!!  I'll fix that tomorrow. I'm not even sure how I'd rip out the stars yet. I think it's going to be a long half hour with tiny scissors. 

For this 100 tiny green snakes project, each quarter is (as you may have guessed) different. I subtitled this one Approach – they are clearly aiming at something interesting.

I was visiting my brother on an island off the coast of Maine several springs ago, and two of the local girls were pouncing on something in the grass like kittens. When I brought my girls over, we could see they each had a handful of tiny baby garter snakes, coiling and curling around their fingers. 

an off hand comment from a friend online specifying something unexpected had happened and wondering what would happen next – it kind of took a hold of me. 

I spent most of today making backgrounds, and starting on these snakes. There are 25 on each of four panels. I haven't even thought about how to mount or frame them. Finishing them will be triumph enough. 

honestly.

100 tiny green snakes, singing the Hallelujah Chorus.

Doesn't it make you happy? 

A Delaware hen. An endangered breed, which is sad, because she has lovely speckled feathers on her hackle, those neck feathers. 

I am thinking I need a red hen ("the sky is falling! the sky is falling!") or maybe a Sebastopol goose because I really, really like those frizzled feathers! Probably both. I'll have postcards of these four chickens up on Etsy next week. 

Have another chicken! I am surprised I'm still awake, so I'll give you a small piece of doggerel and go away: 

Heckety, peckety, my black hen

she lays eggs for gentlemen

sometimes nine and sometimes ten

heckety, peckety, my black hen