The blanket: final episode.

  More or less a year ago I told you the story of the longest and most troubled project I've ever done. 
That blanket taught me the real meaning of word desperation.
Well, a few months ago I FINISHED that blanket. 
My therapist and I are really happy. 
The whole project could be defined as an endless series of miscalculations. In fact, it doesn't fit my bed as I expected but I suppose it would be perfect for a single bed. 
At this point, I have understood that this blanket has a life of its own and it wanted to be a single bed blanket since the day I cast on the first stitches for what I expected to be a sweater for my boyfriend. I even remember the day I bought the wool at Hickey's in Dublin. Little I knew that the wool I was buying had a plan for me. See how innocent it looks:
I suppose I was just a medium for a blanket that wanted to come to this world, a kind of Our Lady of the Blankets, if you allow me the little textile blasphemy.
Yes, the numbers reveal its holiness:
3, the techniques: crochet, weaving and sewing.
3 kilos, its weight.
3 years to complete.
I feel honoured, don't take me wrong, but next time I am the chosen one I hope it's a potholder.


It's nice to have those little relaxed villages so close to the city. I was working in this place last month. I used to have my lunch on the beach, under that tree.


Print illusion

I created a very short video (just 12 seconds!) with images of butterfly wings, flowers, swimming fish, zebras, water drops and other random but colorful things.
Then the video was projected on a dear classmate who patiently played the White Canvas Woman.