The waning gibbous is thrifted white damask (50 cents) and Deb Lacativa dyed cloth (priceless) reverse appliquéd with thrifted charcoal gray linen ($2).
The last quarter moon on the right is worked on indigo shibori cotton dyed at Maura Ambrose's workshop several years ago, sandwiched around a thrifted white damask hem ($1).
There were a few also-ran moons which may or may not make the final cut ...
And good news: we have been in a long spell of no rain, but ever since Fiona's peace weather-gram and Barry's piece of peace (more on that later) were hung on our porch thermometer ...
it has been raining ...
Sadly, but true to the land of flood and drought, the almost-bone-dry Blanco River, home of these rock cairns down the road from us ...
has now risen and washed them all away ...
If you have Facebook, you may be able to see (and hear) video of the Blanco River.
I am in love with your waning gibbous moon!
ReplyDeleteMo - as you are wont to say, I’m feeling quite chuffed and couldn’t wait to show this one off ...
ReplyDeleteit is a beautiful moon. that is a lot of water. does it continue on out to the sea?
ReplyDeleteYour vision and creation of these moons just floors me! We could sure use some of that rain here! We end up in that circle of dry-fires-rain-mudslides. UGH. Does all that water make it hard for you to get around your area?
ReplyDeleteVicky - thanks for the moon vote of confidence. The water in the Blanco eventually makes its way to the Gulf of Mexico, but much of the rain travels through fractures in the limestone into the aquifers that supply much of our local water needs.
ReplyDeleteNancy - I smile ... my original vision was to make all the moons the same, but now I'm really enjoying how many different ways the moon might go.
As for the water, yes, it can make it hard to get around. In the picture above, the one lane bridge is still visible, but during the epic Memorial Day flood in 2015, the water rose up to the house at the top of the picture. Where we are, about 300' higher in elevation, the problem is that low water crossings surround us, so when the creeks rise, we become an island and can't get out of the neighborhood.
Liz, your thrift finds become priceless treasures as you wield your needle and thread. Bless you.
ReplyDeleteYour moons are thrilling in their beauty and diversity.
ReplyDeleteloving these moon-storylines
ReplyDeleteSue - I hope we can visit my favorite thrift together someday ... although it seems like I either leave with nothing or arms full
ReplyDeleteDana and Jude - I'm glad the cloth and words are drawing you in
Hiya LA - sorry I have not visited for a while - work, travel and technology. Love the work on the phases of the moon reinforces my love of the moon. Great to see the rain - hope it is nurturing and doesn’t do damage. May you have peace and an abundance of growth at your place. B
ReplyDeleteLove your moons. Wishing you just the right amount of rain...
ReplyDeleteBarry and Deb - thanks for the well wishes. So far so good as we have had more than 10" of rain, but spread over a couple of weeks. The dormant grasses and forbs are greening up and the back of triple-digit summer heat has been broken (for now anyway ... summer can stretch into October around here).
ReplyDeleteThe damask is a perfect moon choice! Curious to see what remains of your cairns when things dry up again, I like to imagine that a few of the stones are holding on.
ReplyDeleteHazel - thanks ... I'm new to using damask and really liking it a lot. As for the cairns, the stones are likely gone, but there will be new ones to take their places. The cairns will surely rise again.
ReplyDeletethese moons are gorgeous !
ReplyDelete