Tuesday Tada!

Here's a story that I may have already told you.  But we're a family here at Small Works, and don't family stories just get better and better the more they are retold?  That's part of what makes family gatherings so fun, after all.  So if I have already told you this story, please enjoy hearing it again (or at least be polite and pretend you haven't heard it).

One of the things that sticks out in my mind about living in Florida is that the entire state is ALIVE.  Every time you take a step, something scuttles away into the bushes or grass or anything it's possible to scuttle under.  And although I'm prone to hyperbole, there's no exaggeration in this memory.  

To me, Florida will always = scuttling sound.

In our neighborhood, there was a drainage pond on one end.  One night Russ and I were out walking after dark and we noticed as we approached the bend in the road closest to the drainage pond that in the pool of light under the streetlamp, the sidewalk seemed to be moving.  We advanced with caution, wondering what on earth we were seeing and hoping it was an optical illusion of some kind.  When we got into enough light to be able to see the ground, we could see that it was INDEED moving.
And it was moving with FROGS.

A veritable plague of tiny frogs.  Biblical. So many tiny frogs that as a car suddenly came around the corner, it sounded like it was driving through slush.

Which meant that we'd been stepping on tiny frogs by the thousands . . . and worse than that, every step we took to get away would mean that we were stepping on thousands more.


I tell you that story as a bizarre and entertaining 
-- but mostly unrelated --
introduction to my latest piece:

Mind Your Step, Susan M. Hinckley, 2010

I love this piece!  
It may actually be my favorite piece that I've ever made.  

Often I'm not so delighted when they get finished, and I stash them away in my storage box hoping that we've just spent too much time together and I'm sick of looking at the thing, so perhaps a little space will help me like it more the next time we meet.

But not so with this piece.  Every now and then I make something that I regret selling because it continues to call to me after it is gone, and I believe this will be one of those things.  I'm fond of the image AND the border, as well as the saying . . . rare indeed.

Because we have plenty of scientific evidence that my taste almost never coincides with the taste of the general public, this is probably not your favorite piece.  

But I don't mind.  I smiled all the time I was stitching it.
And that in itself is something to be truly grateful for --
no swear words were invoked during the making of this piece.
Doesn't that feel good?



Karen S said...

OK -- do I comment on the frog story or go right to the work? Both? OK.

Frogs -- Eeeeewwwwyyyooooo! I don't walk around the pond at night because I can't see what I might be stepping on (which segues nicely into the comment on the piece with the foot).

I love the border on this. How did you do it? I can't tell on this computer. I love the sentiment. And the foot hovering over the bird? Cool. I'm particularly fond of the sock and shoe -- with the bit of leg showing -- very cool.

The other night I ran across a picture of the first piece I ever sold. I didn't know I had a picture of it. I loved that piece. And the picture (which really wasn't a very good one) gave me a such a sense of longing. That really surprised me.

susan m hinckley said...

karen -- The border is just hand applique, exactly like the rest of the piece. I was really excited about how it turned out. A big pain-in-the-neck factor, however. It took a solid week! (But worth it.)

Karen S said...

A pain-in-the-neck maybe, but sooo worth it. Just beautiful.

Leenie said...

RE: Driving through frogs. Yes, EW. But they are probably less gross than the Mormon Crickets (much, much uglier than frogs) that occasionally move across highways around here in such a mass that the squished stuff becomes slick and dangerous.

RE: Your posted project. I LIKE it. I wish it were hanging on my wall. I do so enjoy looking at your creations, the style, the simplicity. Yes the detail is just...outstanding, unique and delightful.

Allie said...

Oh golly thanks for the memories, lol - yes I'm too familiar with that scuttling sound, and it's why I'll never move South again. I'll take the snow over things that rustle!

Susan, I LOVE this piece. It takes me back to my childhood, when I'd examine the sidewalk and grass and discover all kinds of magical little beings. Not the rustling kind like in the south, but the kind you find in Michigan, ants and caterpillars and so on. I love every part of this piece - don't you dare sell it.

Judy said...

Brilliant piece and a wonderful tie in to a story my husband wishes he had lived himself. Just my husband, however. I just wish I had the piece INSPIRED by the story! I too love the sock and pant leg. Such nice touches!

Michele said...

I love your new piece. I can totally relate to all the wildlife in Florida. At least the snakes hide out in the winter.

luanne said...

Love, love, love it! You included so many great little details (the sock cuff especially). And the border is so perfect, worth every stitch.

If I were you, I wouldn't part with this one.

Chelsea said...


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