W.I.P.
There’s just something about them. Not many things can catch my eye like a windmill. The strength of their structure is so gracefully vulnerable to the power of the invisible. It’s magical. Truly, I can gaze admiringly for long stretches of time. There are bunches of them on The Big Island of Hawaii’s most southern tip, South Point. They are old, rusty, broken and seemingly forgotten. They were replaced years ago by more robust windmills , but the originals still stand like pieces of art.
South Point Wind Farm
In thinking about my Island Trails quilt, what better representation for South Point could there be? One unbroken windmill and the other, not so lucky.
South Point
And some threads. Yup, I managed a little hand stitching.
Mr. Whale {Before}
Mr. Whale {After}
And without to much headache {considering transfer pencils DO NOT WORK}, my free handed attempt was an A+.
{The Big Island of Hawaii}
I’m getting there little by little.
♥ R
