Speaking of Dead People's Linens

Finally, after lying about my studio in huge crumpled piles like so much storm damage, I finished ironing the cotton damask tablecloths from the Narragansett flea market that I dyed about three weeks ago. I like ironing, not that you would know it from my wardrobe. These pieces were so crumpled up and dry I had to spritz them and work slowly but each pass of the iron revealed the complexity of the old woven patterns and the new dyed ones. Some wonderful stuff happening here. Now I can move around in that room and get serious about making some order. Here's a better shot of the pieces of the embroidered tablecloth that I dug out of the sand on the public beach early one morning. I didn't think the floss would take the dye but it did.