Hard to believe we are already moving into November.
The month of October has been a ragged patchwork held together mostly by looking.
Looking. It is a kind of stitching in a way. I like that. The LOOKING STITCH.
Slows you down and undoes expectation, yet it is like making something without the thing in it. Stitching together the in-betweens.
The big old oak that fell during a hurricane a while back, she offered so much in terms of warmth over the last seasons. The wood is gone, but her heart remains. This season the old stump sprouted again.
Grape leaves are so big this season, they are like blankets, now drying and curling. I love to watch them over these transitioning days.
Everywhere I look, scraps of summer. Nature's design mending. Things becoming small, making space for becoming bigger. One letting go to help another hold on. And no hard feelings.
I will spend the day making sure PATCHWORK BEASTS is in order. I am enjoying revisiting all of it. I want to make it open before I consider patchwork in more detail. So I might refer to some old points of view to balance new ones.
Looking mosty today, some extra time being spent adjusting to FireKeeping after the weather turned suddenly cold.
Thinking about the wall. How much it is like a journal page when it is just bits of things to look at.
On the table, the cloth book. Now filled with little bits of things from Small Journeys. Last year's Diary Series. Which spilled over into this year. Thinking about that.
Once again how one thing might become another.
How one thing becomes another. How nothing becomes something. How young becomes old. How small becomes big. How sadness becomes joy. How really, not knowing becomes knowing, but then and back again. All back again. How it is all one thing. A patchwork. How understanding that connection might make you feel safe to go, held by the going while none of the rest of it matters.
With Patchwork I always find myself at the beginning again. I return to it more often lately. I think because I have come to love the feeling of not knowing. Of knowing less. Of just setting out to see what I can see. Perhaps stumbling over the same old things only to find them as treasure instead of road blocks. UnDoing old assumptions.
I will be cleaning up The Patchwork Beasts class this week. During this process, those who already have access to this online class will be shut out. I will reopen it on Friday. It will not require a password and will be added to the ONLINE CLASS page over at FEEL FREE. This is an old class without the audio element. But it contains a lot of approaches I use for patchwork. And composition. I will index all the instructional videos over at Feel Free as well. Under the proper categories.
On Wednesday I will begin a new series I call Considering Patchwork, here, posting a new segment every Wednesday until I wear out. Ha.
Halloween is coming.
And today I really like this, because it is a bit of free and useful information.
So a warm September is fading. Stormy weather headed up the coast.
The clouds moved in last night and we had some early morning rain. As much as I dread the week of flooding rain to come, we need it. The moss on the roof has already begun to celebrate.
We need a new roof. We will get more money for the house. But the moss is so happy there. So there it is. Who knows what kind of monstrosity they will build here once we are gone. This is not considered a house in this neck of the woods.
I gathered a few Walnuts.
Just a few. Just a little dyeing to try an idea I have. Don't need more. It will be less like summer soon enough. The rain will bring some cold. Got 3 tannin rich pots planned once the studio wood-stove can be fired up. Just 3 pots. In order to try some new marks on cloth. To make some old ugly cloth usable. Acorn, Walnut and Pom. The indigo vat is in the garage for the winter, which gets heated by the dryer and the boiler when we run it. It also has one wall up against the chimney, and since we over insulated it a bit it actually stays comfortably warm. I have some plans for the vat.
I haven't stitched much in the past days, busy with winter chores and being in September.
I pinned the stray who Dances with Leaves over an older piece I call Half Woven in Space. I have no intention of leaving it there. It's a book mat. A place keeper. With the thought of reconsidering the idea of straying. As not being lost but simply being in the moment, in between how it went and how it might go. Keeping that. I do like the idea of pairing (love pairings) the strays with a setting in some way. Also I always marvel at how my little works always seem to pair so well. How they are always made for each other. But then I think, maybe it is just because I am open to that. How things might touch. Across moons. Letting them.