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« How it all might come rushing back |
| Reflection on a life in progress »
Left to right.
Onion skins, pomegranate, home grown indigo ( fresh leaf vat), walnut.
One inch wide. A tiny kilim. Silk on silk,
Weaving has a sense of journey.
In this year that I am becoming old, weaving will bring me home.
August 26, 2013 at 01:15 PM | Permalink