Because of the way this cloth we call Home came together, there are gaps. Along the edge, where a certain kind of staying power is desired, I have filled them.
At the same time marked them. Filled them with cloth or stitch or both. Like lone flames. In red. To remember them. Gaps are important places. Like holes. Probably they had a lot to do with the invention of bridges. And mending. Making do and Just Going.
A sense of winter's departure. A sense of spring's arrival. But more than that the sense that they are the same. A different face of how it might go.
The cloth is now in my lap. The table lays bare. I like looking at it like this. The wholeness of the quiet room, just being quiet. There is a sense of natural order that comes over me. It might just be like this and bring me a sense of usefulness. This is what I thought today.
The magic beans stitched on the one side, easily melt through to the other. Or at least the sense of them. The joy in them. I've taken care to let that happen, now that I know it can. Even though I could sew only through the top layer. Again I enjoy how they might wander through without intention. Even more so. Even more so.
I like that they seem to give the impression of appearing. Or disappearing. That either is ok. I like the feeling of traveling across both sides with out turning the cloth. Knowing that is happening.
(Comments are disabled this week as I talk to myself a bit).
The Magic Cloth hangs in the warm room. It has become a base in a way. A design wall. A place to store smaller cloths in process. A shelter. A space to pin a small cloth as it becomes larger. It might seem confusing. But really it helps me see me clearly what is going on. A picture of the flow.
At any one time, I am considering more than one cloth.
All of them, to date, are studies for something else. Once I have absorbed what they offer me, I give them away or sell them. This something else, if I live long enough, might actually come to be.
The weather has turned very cold in general. A few warmer days in the coming week maybe with not much of the above freezing kind of weather predicted for January at all. I've ordered some extra wood from a local guy just in case. If we don't need it, it will just be a head start for next season. Better to think about it before any big snow gets in the way. Today I will shut down the studio. And spend the next week or so settling into smaller. Mending life's design, in order to continue all I do in some sane way, through the coldest part of winter. I will be rocking inward now, posting less until after the New Year. Letting the Holidays simply become a sense of rest, more or less.
Maybe spending some extra time mastering one piece meals.
So. Yes, at this point we are both "under the weather". Which is big at this point. The under and the weather.
The roof is leaking . The sky is falling. The wind almost picked up Chicken as he went out to pee. He didn't mind. He loves wind and climbed a tree in the rain before coming back in. He promptly went to sleep.
The man finally fell asleep at 3:3o AM. I stitched by lamplight which made my eyes ache and my head hurt. I fell asleep with a needle in my hand and the fire went out. I fixed that and then decided to bring more wood in because of the dampness and the fact that THEY just predicted 3 more days of the same. Another chapter for my neighbors to add to the book as the old lady in the bird robe went out at 4AM to haul wood.
But I stitched more and a little long cloth began to have a story. The thing that runs through it. The dark and light of it. And a wish for balance. A little solstice cloth , then, as it happened. I would like to talk about it more but not today. As soon as the man wakes, I'm going to sleep.
Later I looked at two cloths touching. Which gave them a new sense of season. A trans-season stray emerged.