When someone pours enough time, enough heart, into something, it can jump categories between “dreadful” and “amazing.” I’m not saying this happened here, just that there’s a fine line between art and madness, and I’m pretty sure it involves embroidered puffballs.
Really, I feel old just looking at this. I’m pretty sure it’s someone’s attempt to get into the Order of Crafty Grandmothers and Allied Biddies. Most of the committee nodded politely, but of course Gertrude was the last hold-out. “It’s very nice, dear, but where’s the kitten?” Always with the kitten.
There is nothing in this world–NOTHING–that cannot be represented with enough floss. Still lives are of course easier, granny-based technology has not advanced to the point of being able to replicate an animated GIF, but it’s really only a matter of time.
This really was a labor of love. Now, you might think that the artist just brushed out a few cotton balls for this effect, but no, she actually trapped and killed two Bichon Frisé for their coats. Don’t worry, she survived the Great Depression, and knows how to use every part of a Bichon. And, that’s not chicken salad.
I have nothing to say here. Just sit back and let the embroidery wash over you.
You can just about see the place where her grandson came in and took the entire thing away from her. “I think that’s enough embroidery, grams.” He stopped, looked at the comforter covered in tiny rosebuds, the rocking-chair cozy, that was kind of weird, but after what she’d done to the cat, grandma clearly couldn’t be trusted with floss anymore.
Savers on North Loop and Burnet, Austin