Sweater Jackets
he sweater jackets called the Great Sweaters are buttonless, wide sleeved, hip length jackets.
The small number of elements all of the Great Sweaters have in common is the shape, they are one-size-fits-all from size 4 to 18, a lack of fasteners, and a few stitch patterns.
I enjoy working with different colors and textures for the sheer fun of it. Yarns are collected over time I think initially it would be good to use in a garment. Which garment it will end up in, well...that's where the fun is.
Each one will have the look that says, "...as genuine as your own.
The design is generated from an energy reading or from personal preferences or colors from an object that the customer wishes to have reflected in the design and color pallet. This becomes a truly original, wearable art garment.
Sizes for custom designs are specific to the wearer.
The execution time from agreement is three months. If this is a gift,appropriate planning is recommended. The price for a hip length jacket is $3,500.00 plus reading.
A personal, wearable art garment that says"...as genuine as your own."
I find art inspiring. When I look at this sweater, I think of a painting I remember at MOMA. I believe it was called 9 Shades of Black. I don't remember if that is the title of the painting or who the artist was. There were nine shades of black. When one looks at the canvas, one can see blue-black; red-black; yellow-black, and more. The squares were distinguishable but all of the colors were various shades of black. That's what this sweater reminds me of. It is easy to see the blue and black squares.
The squares pattern is carried through the black with two different black yarns. Like mixing red in black or yellow in black, the yarns contain enough fibers to make their differences visible. I will keep looking for the painting.Hope to make it to MOMA to see it again.
Working with Spiritual Suggestions
This crocheted sweater jacket contains yarns purchased from several places.
The yarns were not collected for this purpose originally. I was drawn to them for their colors and textures. There was a pattern, as with most of the work, but I change what I use in the pattern. I work until I sense it's better to stop. The colors are placed against each other and if there is a positive feeling, the color is used. I actually think I hear disembodied suggestions.
There is one regret with this sweater jacket. I "listened" to suggestions throughout until I began working on the body. I used the same number of stitches, as in the sweater jacket above, when I added the chain on both sides of the right sleeve. There was a nagging feeling to lengthen the chains but I kept on going.
Sure, I knew what I was doing. Worked right through the "nag."* Since the yarns were different thicknesses, the gauges were different. After several inches I realized why I "was being nagged." I ended up with a sweater jacket with a shorter body.
* Nagging Thoughts and Feelings
When I Ignored Spirit
That has happened many times in different situations, much to my disappointment. I was at Delphi University. I was getting something to eat and drink. I saw the ice making machine in my mind.The juices were kept there so no one had to go into the refrigerator. I was wondering why I zoomed in on the juice containers. Okay, I expect to see them there. I pick up the container and shake it to redistribute the pulp. The top flew off and juice swirled in the dining room, landing on the machine, the floor, and me. Oh, so that's why I saw the container.The last user did not rescrew the top.
The Trio by Allison L. Williams Hill
My husband and I went to Jamaica. We got in late to a nice hotel and the room was equally nice.I think we were there a couple of days. I "lost" that passport to some incredibly careless employees in Florida where I was instructed to send it for renewal- during Jeb Bush's "reign."
My husband mentioned that he was not sure if he removed all of his things from the place. While he was talking a vision came to mind of the wardrobe space between the sleeping area and the bathroom. There was a foldable bench in there. I said I'd go to the room and check. I stood in the area we slept. There was no reason to go anywhere else, since this was where his stuff was kept. I checked the drawers. All were empty.
We got home and Clem realized that his back supporter was not in his belongings. The image was clearer or, rather, I understood it. It was on the bench in the wardrobe, where I never went because we were not in there for any length of time. We calIed the hotel and they agreed to mail it to us. It was interesting that we never received it. Fortunately, Clem did not need it anymore.
Now, is that why we never received the package? Let's say that they got busy and it slipped their minds to mail it.
The worse of all, hopeful it will be the last as I have been diligent to pay attention to, what I believe is, Spirit, was when I was at our home on Tortola. It turned out it was to be the last time. It was a year after Clem gave up his body. To the rest of you, he died.
Coming into Tortola was unnerving because my luggage was misplaced. I had to go into town the night before I was flying out to get my suitcases from the ferry. That night I was packing move stuff from the home in suitcases and to mail stuff from St. Thomas. I saw Clem's doctorate documents and thought, no, leave them. I'm coming back. But I looked up and saw another suitcase on top of my wardrobe. Still no, I'm coming back. I was so sure that everything was going to be there when I returned.
Sweaters that were damaged from H. Irma, 2017
My architectural portfolio was on the couch in the living room along with many, many sweaters I created. Yarn was there. Books were packed in boxes and numbered. Boxes were stacked in the office and in the bungalow. I was so sure. My mind went to his work again. I saw it in mind. No, I'll be back.
Merge with Tree by Allison L. Williams Hill
The next year in 2017, H. Harvey decimated the Gulf of Mexico, causing damage to Texas, Louisiana, and . I was at my mother's and sister's house and watched the devastation. It was incredible. I felt for the people; because of my relationship with Clem I had the experiences of twenty-one hurricanes in various strength categories.
Then, out of
the blue because I was not paying attention, H. Irma was tearing up the
leeward islands. My had snapped around. I was choking. I refused to
believe it but to deny what my eyes were seeing, my ears were listening to was useless. I heard it. Sure, I was coming back.
This
particular incident was more than a year in the future that the images
in my mind were of our home as it was, as I was standing in it. I
had many other tools to use, to check to see if I was paying attention. I
could have dowsed. I could have asked Clem out loud and wait for the
answer. What blocked it all was Ego; my being right, my certainty if returning. See what I returned to in 2018.
In(tuitive)-Vesica is informed by Spirit. Some may say it's faith and faith in the Bible, "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1, HBFV).
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