Now what do I do?

As previously noted, I've finished the two projects that had been languishing for a year. I have a vague idea of what I want to design next, but nothing concrete. I'm trying to finish up my Jean Hilton piece, "Turnberry Ridge," which is coming along nicely. I would have included a picture, but I managed to leave my camera at my niece's house in Berryville last week, an hour and a half drive. I may just have to go out and buy a new camera. Why not? The current one is getting old (2, 3 years?), and I need one with a real zoom in order to get good enough pictures to put all the inventory online. Good rationalization!

What I'd really like to do is design a canvaswork piece, the first of a possible new series of bugs. I was thinking of reworking my Jewel Bugs for canvaswork, but I'd rather do something entirely new.

The only problem, of course, is I'm pretty new to this canvaswork thing. I don't have very large stitch vocabulary yet, which I think is a prerequisite for designing such a thing. To improve that, I'm taking a class at Waste Knot Needlepoint in Arlington, a fiber and stitch notebook. It will teach me how to use the various Rainbow Gallery fibers by teaching 70 stitches. Both aspects of this appeal to me. My knowledge of special fibers for needlepoint is fairly slim, although I did learn a lot while running my shop. It's a 4-session class that meets every 2 weeks, starting in September. I can hardly wait.

My inspiration for the bug has come to me recently during my daily (well, I try for daily) walks. I aim for 2 miles every morning; note that I said "aim." I find myself ruminating as I walk because I never seem to remember to bring my iPod. These ruminations take the form of working out a solution to my inability to get going on various things I must do, writing the perfect haiku, and just processing the sounds and smells I experience.

For the past week or so, I've noticed the rise of the song of the cicadas. It's not deafening, as during the hatching of the 17-year cicadas. It's an unmistakable undercurrent as opposed to a roar. Curious as to whether it was the advent of the 17-year brood, I Googled "cicada" when I first noticed the song. Looking at the pictures of the new adults emerging from their shells, I was taken by the beauty of their wings and carapace. Keep in mind that I pretty much abhor all bugs, particularly the large, flying type that thinks nothing of lighting on your back and going for a ride until someone notices and brushes it off. This may be the perfect bug for my canvaswork piece.

The intricacy of the wings makes it all the more imperative that I improve my stitch and fiber vocabularies. I know there's the perfect combination to achieve the effect I can already begin to visualize. I just need to learn what it is. I mean, how hard can it be?

kthxbai.