Lace, that starts your hands to itch because you long to pick it up, and at the same time starts your heart a pumping to be creative. The sirens go off in your head, "I could add it to a sheet, or at the end of a towel, maybe add it to a tee-shirt…"
It is the type of lace that screams, "Create!" When I see lace I hear that message and instantly I want to scoop it up and take it home.
Though there is a twofold dilemma… I don’t need anymore lace, and I rarely have the heart to cut it up! Most the time you need to cut it to for a project. Therefore it sits screaming at me and I stand starring at it. A love-hate relationship you might say. I just want to admire it, and it wants to be used.
Ah the lucky day when I find lace that is already put to use. Dyed and sewn. The creation complete.
The French antique markets are full of bits and pieces of hand made lace. It adds texture and tenderness to the objects it surrounds.
French hand made lace.
The nimble hands, the creative dancing hands! The needles that formed the heart song into reality. How could I dare cut into a piece? Like I said, lace and I we stand and stare at one another. I want to create something with it…but I cannot.
A box of lace temptation. How can I resist? Layers, depth, yards upon yards of someone’s creation waiting to be put to use. To adorn, to add, to give texture, to unfold… how cruel it is to tempt me.
The lace thing, the pretty thing, the soft and sexy, the baby’s gown, the young bride’s veil, the pillowcase trim… the added flare to a package, the extraordinary ruffle, the collar, the bodice, the table runner…endless ideas haunt me.
The lace thing. It is hard to resist, don’t you agree?
Doesn’t it speak softly? Doesn’t it remind you of a gentle moment lost in time? How can I cut into that tenderness? In the end I pass it on and am happier to know that someday someone will use it in a creation and it will be made complete because of it.
Photos: French lace awaiting creative endeavor!
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