Before anything, today I read that Eloise Greenfield died. At the age of 92. She was a groundbreaking poet, writer for children, warrior for the African American child's literary rights and for rap.
And she always insisted her many books be illustrated by African American artists. Who better, she reasoned, to understand and depict the nuance in what she was saying about her characters? I particularly love attention being paid to illustrators and her respect for them.
So in her honor I read this wonderful book right away. Written for children, valuable for everyone.
It's a charming story of a puppy who's a poet. Or maybe a poet who's a puppy.
Back to humbler tasks. Namely the useful gown. So here's the neck-facing cut out, fitted, stitched in place, turned inside and the right side top stitched all around.
Frog if I decide on it. But I think the neckline is enough without the added touch.
Now I can do something else. I'll continue the finishing of the gown in stages. It won't take long. And now I'm thinking of pocket details that echo the neckline, that little vertical slash. Hmm.
So, on with other things, out came the beads and remembering the pleasure of choosing picking them up with the needle and anchoring them, dropping them, collecting them on a spoon, encountering the occasional one that's too small inside to pass over the needle's eye. And I started the new doll's head.
I'll combine sculpting with beading, and see if that works.
She/he will have a head, and maybe more, encrusted with beads in rivers of color. And the multicolored hair I mentioned earlier. That's the plan anyway. Barely begun but I wanted to show you the very beginning. Things could change. But the Helpless Prawn is liking this start.
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