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Things are stacking up Again...I'll be dropping a few things in the shop here and there. I do not take reservations or commissions. Supplies are sold separately through the Threadcrumbs Shop. Link up top.
Today it is raining. Not a lot. Not Enough really.
But enough to delay the scheduled firewood delivery. Monday then. No stacking today.
But more water for dyeing.
it's dark today and the overhead light is my Sun
It is interesting how different it seem to be hosting a "class" here on the blog. It doesn't seem like that. It seems more like what I called a "Diary Series". A long term day to day creative journey. But different still, being more mixed into regular life. I think that is what it has all become. The teaching thing has merged with the blog. This is significant for me. The Becoming One. For one thing, it takes the stress of scheduling out of it. And really, it makes it all so much more real. Free-er. In a way it all has become one, less. But in another way it all became more. Now it certainly is more about Just Going. Oddly, the security code for getting into the original class was "just going". I marvel at how the layers of days bring new form to my thinking.
Anyway, this teaching series is now officially renamed. The SunMoonStars Diary. I made that one word. And added it to my computer's dictionary so it would stop reminding me about breaking rules.
I'll tell you why I like this. Because this is how it is for all of us. We share the Sun and the Moon and the Stars. And we share how it goes, day to day, as we find time for creative thinking as the world turns. We are not different in this regard. Maybe only in how we manage it, how we see it, what we expect from it.
So before I did some new storming, I cut out the text from the original word play and saved it as an image. Then I added some color. Digitally. For folks who are computer-comfortable, this is no big deal. Not everyone is. So in real life, it is like printing out the text on paper cutting it out to the size you want. And then maybe painting over it, using the text as a base. I like how the words then might become like image. A sketch or a painting.
When you paint with a computer, the color is always interrupted by closed edges. I laughed out loud as the little moons formed here. Not expected, initially annoying, now gloriously appropriate because I noticed them.
So I am stopped in my original tracks and the moon has been caught in my words. And my words in Old Sky. Probably if my mind had not been slowed down by focus in the first place, I might have filled in the spaces.
This morning across the studio door again. A spider's web.
Walked through it yesterday. Broke it while not taking the time to notice. I used the other door this morning.
The small woodshed is stacked with leftovers from some spring clearing and some new scrap from a caring boy's wood shop. We will be visiting regularly now to pick up this beautiful hardwood to use in the wood stove as the weather cools.
The old asphalt driveway, here since I moved in. Falling away. The man has decided to patch it with homemade cement stones. I suggested he might consider nine.
As I get older I worry about not feeling well. My mind runs away with me, imagining what it might be instead of what it is.
But no doctor. Old Sea. Old sea speaks to me.
And apple cider vinegar and honey in a bottle of water. Mom's cure all. Day 2.
Two little girls on the beach yesterday. Hours spent catching little fish in their net. Putting them in a bucket. And finally throwing them back. I sat and watched for a long time as it seemed they caught me in many memories from my own childhood. As the sound of the waves seemed to wash my worries away. I floated. I stitched.
House of Stray. I called it that a while back. I am still calling that. It is about safety. Relationship. The freedom to choose Way.
By sundown I felt better. I slept. Here I am. Feeling good.
Still working at finishing up what is here. Because after a while there is no room for new ideas.
But sometimes when I pick up an old idea,it feels new again. And that's good enough.
Working my way around the edge. It's bigger than I remember.
Impatience. Waiting, waiting, waiting for the heatwave to be over. What good is that? I took this picture this morning. The dawn was slowly erasing the clock face and I laughed to myself. Time out. Stop it.
I notice evidence of a slow chew. Something kept going without bitching.
I put a cloth frame around this old thing. Some history here...
Frame, border, edge. A Design/Composition thing. A new category for Feel Free maybe. I have so may thoughts to organize.
I am using an old piece of indigo chambray. One piece that was just big enough. It was rolled up for years. I am happy to find a use for it. To back the old patchwork. Nothing in between, basted loosely like in this little video.
The binding was already there. It's a table cloth. And I promised Mom I would cover the raggedy back. Which never bothered me but drove her crazy. So now. I am finally getting to that. Not because I need to . Because I want to. It's a kind of closure. As I fold and stitch against the binding we added together, I realize how long some promises linger. I've no plans to quilt this in any fancy way. Just hold it together. So it lasts forever.
And I will address the center in some way, as I had been imagining.
Note to self. How things change. How promises are more like processes.