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.
Post office. Preparing the house and yard for winter.
Many blurry pictures lately. Maybe from all the going.
I looked at this and many thoughts surfaced. Questions maybe. About the blur, the softened,ragged edge of image. And clarity.
Isn't blur a just another kind of vision really? Depending on what we focus on? How we choose to look at it? I somehow got caught up in that. The blur of moving through when we are not in the flow itself. The blur of what moves through us if we aren't in that either.
Anyway. I finished autumn eyes. I think I was influenced by thinking about space as something that might invite a kind of turbulence. Wind. Something indeed began to blow through. The points and protrusions are like pointers for that. Vision is growing and going in sympathy with that motion. No blur or confusion here. Just change.
I like how the center piece became like a small flying carpet. A place to ride it out. The storm of change. And the eyes are like stars. And the magic ring, is like a circle game.
Considering SunMoonStars and all that might include will help me finish many things. Clear some space for more going.