As I signed my yoga students into class yesterday morning, I couldn't resist taking this picture of Ted Carbonaro in his T shirt (above) which made me laugh and then got me thinking about the "Language of Tees." An hour later my son Michael's pictures of his tour with Foreigner came across the cyber transom and what do you know, more Tee Shirts, again. As you can see by the band's fans in Bad Brückenau, Germany, they wanted to speak with their Tee's.
Going back in time, I've got more stories about T-shirts: With the help of an artistic friend John Kushigian (sadly, long deceased) who taught me the art of wax resist/batik, I created the shirt below for my son Aaron who was probably 5 or 6 years old at the time. He's now 38. He never wanted to part with the shirt, so when I asked him to send me a picture of it yesterday, there it was in my email this a.m.
Another less cheerful story about me and T-shirts concerns a love affair gone sour. In removing traces of my departed friend I came upon several black T- shirts he had left behind. Starting from the bottom up, I cut each one round and round (almost like peeling an apple) until I had a huge ball of T-shirt yarn which I then knitted with huge needles into a long scarf. At the time I didn't know if I was knitting him into or out of my life, but it was a way of recycling the thing as I needed to do internally in my head. Ah, the power of metaphor! No pictures of that artifact remain. Sorry.
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