I stitched. Added a wrinkled edge to a piece I started when I decided to rerun SunMoonStars and then changed my mind because my mind got all tangled up in yesterday and today. And I couldn't straighten it out.
I put an edge on it. A binding is a bit like a hug. It doesn't have to be planned or perfect. As long as it holds it all together. Even for a moment. You exhale.
The man wasn't feeling well. So he slept, I stitched. Fireside.
It's cold again.
The other side of a foundation moon cabin, (this one) looking at that. A kind of ghosting. Inspired by something so simple. Like a diagram. Just a running stitch. Like drawing of the plan of how the pieces might fit together. I think it is an idea. SeamLines. Making patches that are like plans for quilt blocks. They would look great together as a new type of component. So I will keep going with this. Make a little sampler. Let's see. I'll start with nine.
I can't believe we can walk to this spot. It's all downhill. About a mile. The walk back uphill gets more difficult each year. And more important.Yesterday, I thought to myself...I need to live near the sea.
But I have always lived near the sea. Maybe we think we need what we have, out of habit.
How easily I might slide into a laziness of days. How a lot could slip away and I would be left with just sewing....just going. Yet still holding pattern.
While cleaning and sorting, and exercising less, I've begun to gather a few things for a Paper Sanity Series, mostly loose pages. Paper scraps of self.
I love this picture. It's foggy this morning. The moss seems joyful. To be there. For now. And the trees seem to be growing right out of my studio. This house will be demolished if we go. No one here will bother with it. The land is the valuable part.
Over the years we pushed back the brush to expose the curve of it. The garden was always on a slope. Part of the property, the gully at the bottom of the curve, allows for the rain to run off toward the sea. The water often sits down there now , encouraging mosquitoes, since the neighbor below blocked the right of way. He can be a nasty bastard. You can't reason with him. Whatever. I've removed almost all the bricks and crop circles from the hill, slowly. Grass and weed took hold even under the snow. This is where the deer move through. Now that it is clear, even more so. I love that the place has become a path.
I left a mound of parsley I found under the leaves. In the background, the neighboring property on the other side. They like to shrink wrap their boat and other things in plastic for the winter. No comment.
It is way warm again today. We've enjoyed this little window into spring. Winter isn't over yet. But spring has sprung all the same.
This piece isn't new. it was just there on the wall with all the little things. It's an old cloth woven (woven into on one side) base. But the window is new. I like how it floats there. Like an idea.