Respect my work. Everything shared here is original , and holds personal value. Contact me if you wish to use or publish/pin my words or images. Context is so important to me. Thank you for understanding.
(right click the above mail thingy to copy email address)
Sometimes you might be so in it that you forget to get dressed or even comb your hair. You might not even notice someone is lurking with a camera. And so it was on a cold dreary Sunday in March when gardening wasn't an option anyway.
I will call this the basket shirt. Until it becomes something else. I like to name things as I go. Naming something is a sign of affection I think. And at the same time a way to try to communicate the form that the love might take. And then, has taken. For me any way.
We are expecting more snow and ice on Thursday. On top of the foot already on the ground. Tomorrow will be spent digging a path to the second woodpile. Stacking a lot of that wood on the porch. Hoping we don't lose power.
I'm just doing a bit of whitish work. Just Continuing a few things. Calming things.
I'm considering that this shirt might become an under robe robe. If I extend it. At least for winter.
This winter seems the coldest I remember, maybe because we chose to face the cold in a more head on way. Knowing its presence with every choice made in a day. These icicles on the roof actually changed direction in the wind. I like to look at them, trying to catch the slowness in that. Slow Flow. The sympathetic evolution of the form. Still icicle, but new. And knowing only for the moment...
There is a snow line that forms a horizon like ring around the Wind Robe. I found it last year right around the time that mom became really ill. The icicles formed here and there. I remember a lot of meltdown then as well. I've been working to secure some of the meeting points near by. Some left over wishing stars hold tender places. At least for now. White can be cold and warm I think. I am letting my mind wander today. Back and forth.
House guests are gone. I am caught up in a week past filled with questions about people. How do they get all twisted up? And how nature's answer to that might simply be season. How we might embrace the beauty in that. It might soften hardened opinions and frozen hearts.
The Bird robe and the robe called Wind work quite well together. Warm as toast. One over the other. Neither finished. And it matters not. The streaks in this photo come from the old mirror inside a closet door which always makes things seem a bit washed out and out of focus. Life has been a bit like that these past days. There is about a foot of snow outside which has turned to solid ice. And a few too many folks in this one room we are heating. More snow tomorrow night. I'll be back to regular blogging on Tuesday. Have not been keeping up with my email, thanks for your patience.
What we might wear has so much to do with the weather. And what's on hand. Who we are.
Partly Cloudy. An early morning inspiration while testing the fermentation vat . Just right.
Partly Cloudy and a Slight Breeze. This Breeze began during some musings on white over at at Diaries, and will kick up again during my first live gathering in the planning. Weather can be unpredictable but a slight breeze is always welcome.
A Slight Breeze followed by a big Wind. Wind continues to develop, hoping though, that we get through the next season with out a hurricane this time.
I name everything. Yes, even my clothing. Facilitates a long term relationship.
The What-iffers and I , we have spent a bit of time slowly thinking about white, the sense of it, as light and looking through. Cloth as a dream state. I am caught in the thought this morning that something as invisible as wind has come to have a texture. Still as light as a feather....
The Wind robe has been a curtain these last days, but it is a Summer Robe and it might be time to tie up some of the looser ends and prepare it for the garden strolls that might happen if the chill ever leaves this part of the woods. This chill is lingering a bit too long. Even the most practiced grow impatient.