Growing Old Gracefully...

I spent the weekend

 with my eyes closely fixated,

 a few inches away,

 from Frances Pool - 1832.

 Counting

 &

 re-counting

&

color planning.

 Frances Pool has

 grown old gracefully,

 indeed.

  However,

 I cannot seem

 to get her musty smell

 out of my nose...

 Frances has spent

 some time in a

 dark

 and

damp

basement.

 I'm just guessing,

 but

 that is what her

 "perfume"

 indicates to me... 

Sharing little

 bits and pieces

 of 

the work of 13 year old

Frances Pool - 1832. 

   I've grouped the photos

 of the front and back

 together into one photo unit,

 for easy comparison.

 The top photo is the backside,

 showing the original colors of floss.

The bottom photo of the group is the front side,

 showing how the flosses have faded

over the 180 years.

See how the flosses have changed?

Frances has grown old gracefully,

hasn't she?

 The purples have faded

 to a lovely 

federal blue.

 The fuchsia pinks

are now a wonderful

shade of muted mulberry.

The rusty brown tree branch

is now

 greenish brown.

Take note of the bird..

It's light chartreuse-colored feathers

 have faded to a subtle shade

 of soapstone grey.

 I think she has aged beautifully,

I love her faded colors.

 It seems to be

 that I always

 prefer

 the faded version

 to the original version. 

What way do you prefer to stitch a reproduction?

 Bright and bold,

 like newly purchased

 skeins of flosses,

or

faded and muted 

shades to simulate 

a piece that is 180 years old?

Frances Pool appears to be about a 15 count.  

The finished piece isn't quite square, 

with her widest width being around 14 1/2".

Just a nice size,

not too overwhelming. 

  I've selected hand dyed flosses

 by The Gentle Arts

 &

 Weeks Dye Works,

 replicating

 the front side 

of the sampler.

The reproduction will have

the same look as the antique. 

The linen selection

 hasn't been finalized.

I'm still on the hunt for the perfect shade of linen.

Wish me happy hunting!
 

Have a good week,

Brenda