... a nine patch appearing and disappearing...as I momentarily consider shadow. Light and dark are really so much like magic. That is where my symbol comes from. That is what I mean by magic. How things appear and disappear. How amazing that is.
The rain had us up at 3AM. Crazy cat time. I was tired but made coffee and did a little considering, hardly noticing that Chicken here went back to sleep.
I have a lot of unfinished work here. Well, that's ok, but all of it is missing something. Was missing a way through it. But now it is OK. I am unrolling it.
I have a way. To solve some long standing puzzle. I found it while Considering Weave. I call it the magic warp. A new and most significant symbol. It is that, which seemed unspeakable for so long, that runs through me. Keeps me steady. Speaks something softly but surely. Comes together very slowly. Stands for something. Accepts everything.
Connects me to everything else.
The main (yet maybe quiet) component in a new found cloth language I might share.
I am sure you will see it a lot. So I thought I would just say.
Mom planted these. When I first moved here over 30 years ago. And indeed they seem to live forever. On these cool mornings, I find bees sleeping in the flowers. So drowsy, I can even pet them. Although, I must admit, at first I was checking to see if were were still alive. They seem drunk with nectar. Nestled deep in the blossoms and emerging slowly. Just looking at me. What? In a way, Mom planted herself here. As the season turns and these plants bloom, while others fade, I think of her. Resting. And I am refreshed.
I'm working on some little icons (based on nine of course). They will become links to Small Journeys, embedded in my posts. Starting tomorrow. I have decided to keep the comments open here on the main blog. The journeys will simply add quiet clarity. Clarity starts small.