Last evening. Fireside.
The smallest beast. Going. Maybe not Just. Leaving a trail. Dividing space. Making a path. Bringing a bit of fresh air to an old piece of patchwork. Transforming it into a place to breathe.
The slowest stitch. Slower than even the slowest slow stitch. Splitting hairs I call it. A split backstitch using one thread. Takes forever because you add row after row and and no one might even notice. But it gives you time to consider and shape your vision.
Eventually. Evidence of how we keep at it.
I'm not particularly focused lately. I'm just letting that play out. More walking than thinking. More going than explaining. I need a Wordless Weekend of Willful Wandering. Mixed with Day Dreaming. Take care.
And Happy Birthday dear Michelle.