+ Her Barefoot Heart

Tag: signature

95

We’re skipping through the numbers now,
straying off the chronological path
as Envoy packets begin to wing their way back to me.
Today, signatures of fall
and signatures of Nancy.
Together.

95c

95a

5 95 9 erased

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

87, 88, 89, and 90

She knows what day of the week it is by what she has for breakfast, our Nancy. She’s a womanchild who likes her structure, that’s for sure. Nancy has always been quick to write her name on magazines (hers and anybody else’s) and when we take her shopping, she goes immediately to her room, puts all her new goodies up where they belong, then takes any new clothes back to the office where someone will sew her name tag inside each article of clothing before putting it in her closet. Though the drawing is new, Nancy has always liked to leave her mark on magazines, puzzle boxes, books, and such. Probably not surprising for one who owns so little and lives in a fishbowl. I stitched the entire drive to Savannah today. Thank goodness for flat, straight roads for a change. Since she wrote her name on three consecutive pages, I thought I’d put them together so you could see the differences and similarities. And though it’s not a signature, I included drawing #90 because I see a progression from #87 to #90. Do you?

The drawings:

#87:

5 87 6 erased

#88:

5 88 7 erased

#89:

5 89 6 erased

#90:

5 90 1 erased

The stitchings:

#87:

87

(Don’t ask me how, but #87 managed to escape my grasp and elude the dreaded group photo.)

888990a

Top to bottom are #88, #89, #90 shown here in the wall at The Cotton Exchange,
one of our two favorite places to eat in Savannah, GA.
(Our other favorite is The Olde Pink House.)

888990b

Left to right: #88, #89, and #90 shown here on the cobblestone street near the river in Savannah. According to my husband (who’s very smart about such things to do with bridges and ships and such), ships came to Savannah with little or no cargo, so stones were used as ballasts to give the ship more stability. Once in Savannah, the ships were loaded with cotton (or whatever), and the stones, no longer needed, were tossed ashore, eventually becoming the cobblestone streets that are quite fetching to gaze upon and quite treacherous to walk upon.

——-

Just signed Nancy and me up to do another collaborative creative project: Sketchbook 2013.

And did you see us here? Thank you, Teresa, for your constant and enthusiastic support.

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.