The dimensional ones always scan fuzzily. It's in my plans to take photos of the tricky ones rather than scan them. Don't set your watch based on when that may be accomplished. I think I need an assistant. Or a masseuse. No, a cook. I definitely need a cook. Oh, let's just make that a housekeeper who can read my mind and is invisible so I don't have to talk.
I think I'll stitch around the outside perimeter of this piece in the turquoise. It looked finished yesterday. Today not so much.
This piece is going to the Buy Art, Not Underwear mail call at Ice Cube Gallery in Denver, Colorado. So if you're out that way, pop in to see my mailart in the flesh and some of the art they have for sale, too. You can even buy something. (Hungry artists always end up hungrier during economic downturns.) According to the original posting, which I can't locate right now, this is an ongoing mail call with no deadline.
From the It's Only a Book project in which I'm deconstructing my 2003 book, Grace: A Memoir, and turning it into art.