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The Other Side of the cloth I call Home is still quite raw. The inside of Home. As the details are added to the flying things along the flight path, the embroidery shows gently through. Like little bright spots in the vast chaotic space. Slowly a path is emerging. A way to follow. Threadcrumbs.
A center stone fell into place this morning. A warm one. I have had it in my pocket for a while. I remember it.
Home. Almost all the safety pins have been removed. It holds itself.
The moon mending has continued. Softening the added edge of this journey.
The basket rim here was inspired by leaf veins. Remember. And my trusty nine patch was inserted in a new way. It became more of an eye. It is an eye really, I realize. Now the eye of the basket. An eye that remains near the edge. Instead of the center. Because I think the basket self is a traveller. But that story will unfold somewhere else.
I like that this cloth became smaller in the process of going. That a sense of SomeWhere emerged miles from NoWhere. I added long fringe to remind myself that even though this cloth is almost finished, the journey is NoWhere close to that.
ThelongerI live,the smallereach journeyseems.
I will bind the top edge somehow and say goodbye.
Button face will show up now and then, I know it.
I will be out in the garden this week. Doing May things.