A while ago, I considered parting with a lot of the scraps of self around here. As part of my lessening campaign. I had planned to put them in the shop. I reconsidered that idea. Sorting through this cloth that is so close to me, with a merchant mind, was not sitting well. Not at all.
This past week while it rained and rained, I rolled and rolled. It was quite exhausting really but at the same time quite satisfying. Really I was Undoing the kind of organizing I have kept up as a habit in the past. I rolled everything that could be rolled. Except the tiniest of scraps. Although some of those got caught inside as well. Big rolls, little rolls. No regard for color or fiber or what ever. No worry about what was where. Everything I have is rolled. Little packages that I might undo. And look at. And use. Freeing really. And when I tied the bundles, they looked like little figures, arms outstretched. Wings maybe. OK. I have a new idea.
Many cloth selves waiting, resting. For something I will call Small Journeys. It's about Scraps of Selflessness. I will keep you guessing for a while.
I have taken out the only 2 seams. Spread it out flat. Maybe in my mind I was thinking it might become a curtain again. Or specifically a Door panel. Because I don't need it as a robe any longer. And wear has limited the stress that it might endure. I thought I might chop it and piece it back together. But there is so much here. Just like this. I got caught in the looking.
Once you look. Stop to see. You can't un-look. It leaves an impression. The first real look changes you. It gives what you imagined new context. It's right there. I could record this in my mind and then continue to manipulate it into what I imagined. But these days I am more likely to give more importance to looking. To the sense of what catches me. What it is.
What catches me?
The contrast of the old worn cloth against the cleanness of the background cloth, old cloth but not used.
How architectural it has become. How the front opening is like a door.
How the neckband will not lay flat.
How it might become a nine patch.
But then, an after image, after a long stare. How it reminds me of a prayer rug. How it could be that. That is what really catches me. I can so go with that idea. Redefine it. Redefinition might be both an UnDoing and a ReDoing. Which might be a kind of attribution in a way. An honoring of both self and other through a gentle rocking until a new form is born.
I like so many more things here, like how the walnut dye collected in the hems, which have yet to be UnDone. But I will look some more.
I will create 9 larger pieces this year. To complete something.
It is 7 degrees here this morning. Wind is making it feel colder. And I hear maybe two feet of snow is on the way. I will bring a lot of wood inside today and stack it in the studio that is not being heated this winter.
It's warm in here. Not that warm. But warm enough. The patience for winter, that has worn so thin, well, I added another layer this morning and that should hold me till spring.