« a scrap of white |
| Becoming Spring »
Tossed. During the process of reinforcing. I enjoy the truth in things like this. She said to herself.
And in this moment I also like the sense of order and change that coexists.
in 21st century rags, A robe called Wind, Cloth as shelter, contemporary boro, how it might happen, human wrapping cloth, imperfection, mending, natural order, notes to self, the other side, through | Permalink
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