...and considering how we use making to map quiet observation, document consciousness. Gazing is deeper than looking. It is slower I think. And more importantly, more selfless. Two things stick with me here. I like the eye form that emerged where the two circles overlapped. And again I imagine this composition without the figures, the beauty and ultimate magic of the marks left behind, engraved by how it happened. And being there. And then later when we are not. The story map with a less ownership in it. Like a once tended, now wild garden, a place prepared for anything to grow.
I used some digital cut and paste to look at my idea.
Now also liking the whisker lines, map. The sense, the difference in tilt, a mark of point of view. How they might intimately intersect with others without planning.
Although this piece has a light-hearted approach, there is something very important to me in these thoughts today. Some explanation that whispers to me about the hidden logic in creativity. How things come to be by moving through us, not by springing forth on their own. I'll talk when the words are clearer.
Hand dyed silk mandala fragment by Richard Carbin. Glennis and Richard put together a classon this technique awhile back which I signed up for. I need more practice, so it was great to have a small piece from the master mandala maker. A great component for Gazing. A little something to make it seem bigger.
An unexpected storm of storms last night. Power went down but returned before we could enjoy it. We are so prepared for that situation now, we wait with glee.
I love this picture. It is taken through the screen which stays up all year long now. From the sleep loft as the sun came up and the big wind subsided. And I like it because of the gridded layer. And perspective in that. How it divides space. Many of my old unpublished (so far) illustrations from a simpler time have this grid layer in them. I think about it more now. In some more meaningful way. Just starting to merge the young and old of me. As the grid perpetuates.
And there was a question about how we pull out of us what is in us. Yesterday. And I drew this.
I think the next eye should be in there. I like this for the seam is a vulnerable place. I like that the stray self is itself as cloth. I love that a seam might run through me. That I might be mended. Later but also from long ago. I liked that coming apart at the seams could be interpreted as a learning process. That the question and knowing could be the same. That the space opened is in the shape of an eye. That I might pull the ragged seam allowance outward in this section, That this part will be "inside out". That seam allowance might, could, acquire a very beautiful meaning here.
The sun is out. Sometimes a storm can simply wash away uncertainty. And leave you with a lot of kindling.
I could just stitch it back up, insides hanging out as evidence of a normally hidden layer. Of going. Without batting.
Because I look at the computer screen to much. I'll be changing that.
The truth is, I spend way too many hours in front of this box. It's a lot of work , all of it. Time. Added to the surfing around, sometimes it is a good part of the day. I enjoy it but I'm no spring chicken and my eyes are important to me.
So we'll see.
Winter Hours maybe then. Not nothing. Just less. See how it goes.
I've added 3 eyes to this one, one more than the sketch. And I have a hunch there will be more.
Sometimes my camera rotates the image I shoot. And so that is what happened. Suddenly, because I noticed, I witnessed another point of view. Which made the whole thing lighter without any other perceptible change. New form starts with new eyes. You can even close them. Still, the forming continues.
Today's (actually it happened a few days ago) Nine is not really nine. But then again it is.
I didn't want you to think I forgot about Nine.
It happened while I was pulling small scraps of self to build a big enough piece to make that square size I have been using. Which is 1 and 3/4" by the way. And there was a buttonhole from an old shirt in the basket. I like buttons and button holes. They are useful.
They might be used as connectors that are built right into a cloth. I thought. Since I know I have a lot of them.
What should I call it ? Not quite Nine for Hanging around?
Just getting back into the swing of the patchwork thing. Feeling light headed.
I have begun to depart from the square. And I'll be talking about that. I am shifting things around to get into winter video mode today. Even though it's still warm enough to be September. The light/dark is shifting.
That button hole looks like an eye. Which has me thinking, remembering Button Face.