Most of my life,  embroidery has been one of the soothing,  imagining exercises I do to lighten my heart, get my creative atmosphere to emerge, and envelop my urge to "do something" translating to design.  

It began as a girl with my grandmother's attention to my delighting in choosing the floss colors and my eye for textiles and patterns.   There were wallpapers to die for in her little home in the  rhododendron filled woods between meadows and ponds and little brooks that streamed to the village grist mill, and estuaries passing into the little harbor and then Long Island Sound.  Everything from the charm of her French paper with tiny Eiffel towers, in grey on shell pink background in the little guest room I sometimes stayed in or the sophisticated "gossips" in her little downstairs powder room their graphic lithographed print from the wonderful Folley Cove Artisans and designed by Virginia Lee Burton Demetrios had a big impact on my design feelings as a child.  My grandmother had traveled much during her youth and all throughout her marriage to my grandfather, Colonel Merrick.  They moved hither and yon, and she carried many of the lovely things they collected together to grace their homesteads and now their little home in the wood.  I adored the French prints and furniture, and my grandfather's aviator's collections - the photos and model planes in his room.  It was here in this little oasis of my childhood, when Mom would drop me off for a visit that I began my sojourns with beautiful fabrics and embroidery.  It was my grandmother who had the patience to show me the basics, and I loved keeping my little projects going as we spent time together.  I had my Tom boy times too - but I always felt an affinity for the feminine and charming coziness of my grandmother's beautiful little home.  There were poofy sofas to sink into - with lovely chintz patterns and an emerald satin wing chair that drew my attention….in the same room as the portrait of Ga Ga (the original Ga Ga) in her emerald satin evening gown.  I felt drawn to the stripes she loved too - and the colors of her palette.  The soft shell pinks and the melon hues of the walls of her living room.  I loved her black and white tiled entry with her little gold demi-lune table with the marble top and a cachepot for the keys………and a pretty mirror you could see how you looked as you left or entered.    

The seeds were sewn also in the pages of the beautifully illustrated pages of fairy tale books my mother read to me, and her amazingly dazzling colored scarves from Liberty of London, and the shisha mirrored fabric of a stole she took to wrap around her shoulders when she wore an Indian evening skirt.  We both loved the Indian miniatures and I loved their tiny people and horses and birds.  These were the beginnings of the lure of gypsy colors and the ethnic stitchery that I was always attracted to back in those early years.  Mid century had it's modern allure for some, but I was living in a very colorful and beautiful melange of the old and antique and the crafted Mexican chairs that still go round Mother's table in her little kitchen.  Paints were one of my Mom's favorite delights.  She had quiet stately ideas about her boxwood gardens, and the greens and whites of the flowers she liked best were so quiet compared with the other part of her personal eye for strong, daring color.  The warmth of her painted walls and woodworks have enveloped her home all these years, and many people remark on them when they visit.  Williamsburg Virginia was a style for my Mother's fancy and she adored the paints of that time as well.

The patterns and rich dyes of oriental rugs, and the tribal whimsy of brass, silver and gilt frames gave ornamental emphasis to things that I found friendly at an early age.  The faded and muted and worn woven rugs or the plush pile of a French carpet (not to please step on with shoes).  Every where I looked I think I found pattern and style and architecture that meant something to me.  When you are still small. and you sit for hours playing on a rug, or  reading in a room with so many lovely colors and designs,  they get into your psyche. 

When I thought about a way to express myself in writing as well as in art, I decided upon embroidery, as it comes to me like a breath with so little prompting and as an eternal promising thought for design.  Embroidered ideas and embroidered threads bring me alive.  Fanciful, colorful. ornamental and for me, infinitely linking……..I look forward to my new blog spot and this place to present and share the arts and ideas of embroidery.