Spirit Cloth

Wishing for a change of direction.

A red star.  A lot of color for me. But it was hot. I got caught up in the idea of a wishing star being a placeKeeper for a change of direction.

I'm back to what-iffing. Catching small thoughts in a new way. But I can talk about that later. Here, the star as a corner has caught me as an interesting arrangement. I made one sketch,there are others waiting in line. But the thread part is important. I pulled snippets of thread from the thread nest, because I save all those small thread ends. One by one, small pieces of color ended up in a nice blend and variation on red. But it also had me thinking about variegated threads in general. How so often the color repeat is too long, so on small areas you don't see the color change soon enough. You know what I mean? That's why I like  Deb's Threads.  Her crazy method of dyeing produces the perfect scattering of color. Way better than the commercial kind and even some of the hand painted threads I've seen. 

A red star then, practicing a few things for the Endless Wishing Cloth... and the reflection of a new day.

PS. I did rows and rows of split back stitch on the star points here. very close together.

Imperfect Patching

Raining again.

Who cares?

So if you've managed to follow along, back to Endless Wishing. The cloth, that is. As I continue Collage Quilting.

I explained how I created the cloth woven center. Using the mosaic method. Now lets look at the patched border.

click here if you see no audio player

The hand piecing method I use to put these pieces together is mostly a simple strip version of this method. And even if I use the machine, I still glue stitch the seams flat. You can iron. It's just a quirky thing of mine. I like the way it feels. 

Typically March. Wild.

 Frozen solid.

I did manage a double faced moon last night, with a bit of dye, doodle and stitch. Fireside.

Just a bit of stitch.  I love how many ways these dyed circles can grow into story.  And here how the weave in the cloth works right through it all. My favorite part was stitching that little eye.

The indigo vat seems happy by the woodstove. Happier than me. I'm itching for Spring. Again.

ThreadCrumbs will reopen later today. I'm off to stock up on supplies.

Maybe it's Joy

 

The sense of that something, I said to myself this morning.

Maybe not just because it's way warm for February.

Because, I know, Joy wells up in me. I am very lucky that way.

I cultivate it. Getting better at that every day. After a while it becomes second nature. To root out the sparks of it. Knowing how just a little spark can start a fire.

There are a lot of little bits of things on the wall. So many they have begun to overlap. I do believe this is how it all began for me. The cloth joy. Just little things.

The cabin blocks have reignited the fire from a simpler time.  Many stories have come back to me, lifting my trust in human nature.  It is like the smell of damp earth that was there on the warm breeze yesterday. As I undid the rest of the garden. Making the place back into a deer run. Hoping that when we leave they might still have a path through.

The new Star Cabin Block is holding a special silk scrap from Richard Carbin. I grabbed a bit of silk and indigo from his shop a while back, since he's right there in Japan. Richard and Glennis put together a mandala class way back.  I haven't quite mastered the technique yet, ha!  Anyway, he included this scrap that he dyed. A scrap of Richard Self. It has a few holes in it, a great fragment (he knew I would love it) and it holds up just fine. I think I found a fine use for this little gift. A Star Carbin block?

I'm rebuilding the resource list form PlaceKeeper, and I will put it here in the sidebar of the main blog page. In a day or so.

Joy to all of you on this fine day. Hoping you find something small to make you smile. And pass it along before it fades.

Note to self:  these cabin blocks with the sun and the moon and the stars, they have become log cabins with windows.

More thoughts about Joy

 

SunDay

Just the day after Saturday really.

My sadness has turned into curiosity. More questions that answers.

I am not ready for anymore conversation about any of it. Unspoken notes to self is all that remains for now.

The recently harvested indigo with seeds dried quickly. I hung three bundles from the ceiling beams in the studio.  The wood stove has been cranked up for a few days. I'm tidying up because most of my time will be spent in the main part of the house soon. The studio will be heated less often as winter moves in. Probably, we'll see.

There will be company today so I am using some quiet time to separate seeds and leaves from the stems which will go in the compost. I love the blueish cast of the dried leaves.

There are still 2 pots brewing on the stove. One pomegranate. One black walnut. I will try to get some cloth dyed while the stove is fired up. I love the colors, the yellow earth colors that come from pom and walnut and copper pots. But more than color, I have begun working more with the reaction of tannin and metals. These pots are tannin soup.

Here, more deliberately with sun in mind.  Old linen soaked in pom overnight, a tin can left to rest. I've done these rings before. But what if this time, I leave the the cloth dripping wet ? Allow the migration of the black marks.  It radiates outward and feels good. I love how the form emerged from a simple change in process. Maybe many of these today. They make themselves really.

Later...