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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.
After almost every day. For almost 10 years... there has been going here.
That's amazing I think, but then really, not really. It's what I do and like to do.
We are all going in one way or another. And this going might be easier than some other kind of going. Like the not Just Going, but going all the same.
So today I am grateful for all this easygoinggoing.
(9 times I just said going, and I didn't plan that, I counted . And ha.)
They are evacuating the shore here. It's the surge they worry about. I'm not sure the wind will be as bad as expected. And we are on high ground,keeping watch on the situation that will unfold as time passes.
An early September Stray, not just started (trying not to do that) but continued from way back. A Seasoned Stray then.
This Seasoned Stray has no fear of time. She is Time.
I want to tattoo this one on my chest.
For all you kind folks that made purchases from the shop this past week...I should be at the post office on Wednesday as planned. Unless we unexpectedly blow away.
As I suggested a few days back, I will be doing a rerun of Sun Moon Stars here on the blog starting on the Fall Equinox. A slow go, I think, that might takes us through the rest of the year.
I am aware of commenting issues here. I can't fix that. We'll wait for the Typepad Gods.
And the one square with the little path down the middle caught my eye this morning.
No sewing yet. Just looking. Thinking. Letting thoughts fill me.
And then this happened. I flipped the center path over, and the little stitches I took to keep it all together and calm, as a unit, they show. I love this. One side within the context of another. Paired. One. Nine for How it Might be Revealed?
It got real hot here, real fast. I let the color go for a moment.
So today we have:
A new Nine in cool linen. Nine for the Tendency to Wander. Just a play on lines, grain, off grain. Woven lines broken by seam lines. Just a simple slight shift brought movement. I concentrated to make sure that when I cut the pieces off grain, the lines would meet up and seem to continue. "Seam to continue" I was thinking. It's quite nice the way it waves. Almost curves, flows, in its illusion. And it's a path. And a kind of self portrait.
An unexpected storm of storms last night. Power went down but returned before we could enjoy it. We are so prepared for that situation now, we wait with glee.
I love this picture. It is taken through the screen which stays up all year long now. From the sleep loft as the sun came up and the big wind subsided. And I like it because of the gridded layer. And perspective in that. How it divides space. Many of my old unpublished (so far) illustrations from a simpler time have this grid layer in them. I think about it more now. In some more meaningful way. Just starting to merge the young and old of me. As the grid perpetuates.
And there was a question about how we pull out of us what is in us. Yesterday. And I drew this.
I think the next eye should be in there. I like this for the seam is a vulnerable place. I like that the stray self is itself as cloth. I love that a seam might run through me. That I might be mended. Later but also from long ago. I liked that coming apart at the seams could be interpreted as a learning process. That the question and knowing could be the same. That the space opened is in the shape of an eye. That I might pull the ragged seam allowance outward in this section, That this part will be "inside out". That seam allowance might, could, acquire a very beautiful meaning here.
The sun is out. Sometimes a storm can simply wash away uncertainty. And leave you with a lot of kindling.
I could just stitch it back up, insides hanging out as evidence of a normally hidden layer. Of going. Without batting.
Sometimes a promise is hard to keep. Yet it seems that, to feel that, is simply to know what the essence of a promise is...the beauty in that. Note to self: Promise. It's a piece of you. What did you expect?
I made a promise to open the Whispering Hearts class as part of Feel Free for Valentine's day. I am a bit behind converting the audios to a more friendly format. But it's ok. I think it will still be an OK gift in it's in between format and I will work behind the scenes to shape it into something better. The link will become active later this evening, added to the Feel Free index in the sidebar. I love you.
Another note to self: I promise to draw every day.
I love how she seems to hold so many moments at once. And I can remember what's missing.
And winter Soul-O. Just plain comfortable. Young and unashamed.
Yesterday. The day seemed to melt into early spring. Most of the snow has gone. And with a day of steady rain, we will be left with mostly wet earth. The smell of that.
And winter me. Not the Winter Bitch from last year. No. Softer, grayer, not caring one bit, spending time trying to make my hair seem like thread. I did spend some time, late into the night, by firelight, stitching the old bitch.
An older and wiser Winter Bitch. Resting in a nest (basket) of lines and wrinkles and patches... I just decided to lose the pen completely. Let the lines form. See what emerges. And just love it. Acknowledging with joy that she is simply still here. When the ink runs out of my pen, I will not buy another. There is always walnut ink. Or no guide at all.
I am using sewing thread for the new dark lines, split back stitch, one strand of thread, splitting hairs.
It is February. I am very in between coming and going. With lots of loose ends to tie up. There will be gaps.
Winter Bitch continued from some old Small Journey here.