Linen dishrags seem to last forever.
Contemporary Boro 2 has begun, so in the good company of the Ragmates, I will be mending some old linen that has finally given way. The holes are nice, but there is a breeze blowing through my robe. In all the wrong places.
I will be checking in here once in a while, but not as often for a while.
There are more thoughts of sympathetic evolution today. How we might change ourselves, willingly. To keep natural order on purpose. What if we become the missing piece?. By giving up a bit of ourselves. Imagine that. I like to imagine that. Becoming more by needing less. Making a difference could be that simple really.
My studio table split during the winter. The dry heat of the wood stove no doubt. Obviously it had some hidden flaw in its construction. Or may not. Maybe that is just the way it is over time. Anyway. It is still standing. And functional. Its advantage being that it doesn't look at itself in judgement. Cannot sense the change as a wound. But if it could I imagine it saying..."what?, I am still a table..."
Today I cut a 5"' square. I like odd numbers. They have a center. Some kind of natural order. I will start with 9 of them. To begin the first Magic feather cloth. I have no set plan. Just a simple centered beginning based on tradition. I will hand piece these 9 squares. Plain old patchwork . I love and respect the simplicity of it. The careful stitch holding the cracks between scraps so gently yet so strongly. And like my table, if made with care and a few seams later wear thin, the whole cloth will still hold together. Patiently waiting for the gentle intention to stitch things back together. An ultimate kindness.
Yes, I will hand piece these 9 squares. Of hand dyed cloth. The browns I dyed during the winter. Something like earth. I may cover it later. But it will still be there.
Something like earth.
And thank you Michelle. i really like this on this, Feather Friday.
Watch the film, it is beautiful.
Today, this is enough. Just cloth. The one in front, a very old cotton sateen, yellowed with age. The one behind, cotton and linen, handwoven by me. With little holes to let the light in. Also yellowed with age. When you weave cloth, sometimes that's enough. You touched it, it has story, and the embellishment is part of its structure. I am in love with that. Because there is a real relationship there. A kind of deep understanding. It took a lot of patience to weave this. Although I do find a thread that is linen blended with cotton a lot easier to handle than just linen, especially when it comes to tension. And in return this cloth has had the patience to endure which is gift enough. Sometimes that is just enough. Today it is actually more than enough.
What is broken? It depends.
Today I am thinking about how a ring might be broken.
1. Intentionally divided by design. I look at this as a form of destruction and also a form of rebirth. Depending on the intention.
2. Unintentionally interrupted by circumstance and the impact of that. This can create hope and change but also sadness. Depending on the circumstance.
3. And then broken simply because it hasn't formed yet or it is simply expanding. Depending on how you look at it. Like when a few thoughts came together yesterday through focus. In this case nine of them. And the ring is the thread that runs through them. Because you know it has always been there.
Focus: Can I add one more thing?
color = brown
shape = ring
beast = dragon
concept = sympathetic evolution
number = 9
A simple arrangement. In pinkish brown. Part of an old whisper.
One heart, two hearts, three hearts
Four.
Five hearts, six hearts,
Seven.
And two more.
A little holiday cloth. And just trying to redefine the valentine/heart once again. I think something less artificial is a good start.
Later...
...there were 9 hearts overlapping. minus 1. Not because I planned it that way but because I counted wrong.
Up early with not a lot to say, except the lamplight looks like moonlight. And the Magic Cloth 2 is on the wall... but not for long.
The nice thing about large cloth is that you can sit under it while you are still stitching it. This morning the Magic Cloth 1 is a shelter from the chill of the studio. I sat under it before lighting the fire. To watch the sun come up. It kept me warm. It is a good cloth.
If you didn't have a warm cloth, this morning would be a good morning to be covered in fur.
I. We. spent a couple of days trying to imagine a world without internet. A life where building a shelter, growing food and staying healthy and occasionally stitching a warm cloth could be enough, everything. I stitched while we chatted away. And the eye that was born by opening a seam just wide enough to see through it gained focus. I placed the eye's center to coincide with the first simple ring, thinking to myself, that a ring of vision starts with an eye. The tiny brown kantha lightly defines the nine patch as a symbol of my beginnings in cloth. The brown thread was salvaged from the hem of an old skirt and dyed with walnut.
Some say dreaming is a waste of time. That dreaming is separate from doing. I think dreaming is part of the natural order of living a life. And when you look back , it seems like a dream anyway. But it wasn't. Sometimes I think a dream is just a way to reorder moments into a story that can make more sense. To see in a new way
Close your eyes .
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forgive me for not visiting blogs much, i am tangled in thread and thought. it also has come to my attention that i deleted a chunk of email accidentally so if i didn't answer you, try again.
as the weather gets colder, i wear this in the studio, in the morning, while tending to the fire.
one moon needs mending. i watched it fade away for a while but now i will fix it before i lose it.
and i need a pocket. i think this left over demo block from the cloth to cloth class will do. and maybe a silk velvet lining is what i was dreaming about. a soft hiding place. a bit of mom's wedding dress dipped walnut brown of course.
a few pins later. a test. something like this is what i am thinking.
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