I would finally add colour to the scene!
I had retreated to my little room, having exhausted my patience in such futile yet, unfortunately, necessary tasks. Who knows whether our lives will one day be stripped of all the superstructures we are laden with, or whether we will adjust to further overload.
With this philosophical “question after lunch”, I had readjusted my pieces by unrolling the skein of DMC 347 and started to embroider in stem stitch the ribbons floating above the branches of the fir trees, falling into bows and swirls. I had embroidered with a single strand of muliné thread, because such a fine line is delicate and beautiful, and the contrast of colour gives us permission to do so.
By now I had become accustomed to the sweet warmth of the fireplace, and as soon as the transparency of the glass had become apparent, I was not surprised to see the new elements appear in the scene. Thin red ribbons, tied to the top of each fir tree, fell limply into the empty space, and then pushed onto the top of the nearest fir tree, in an adorable jumbled lattice. The author of the work had knotted the ribbons into large bows, the ends of which curled to the ground.
And small packages, covered with red paper and knotted with gold threads, sparkled in the daylight.
So many, small and precious, everywhere.