It is way cold. June 2. 46 degrees. A hot day or two in between. But it's ok.
We've little invested for food growing this year.
Except for greens. Greens grow well in the cool.
But really, that's all we really eat, or need to eat.
Grains and beans and greens.
Wild Raspberries are taking over here. Now that we let them. And the grapes are doing well on their own. Growing over dead brush from hurricane Sandy. Blueberries will yield plenty but probably after we are gone. Fruit. The rest is just now obtained through support of local growers here. It's what they do to get by. Fair enough.
So many thoughts about why we get so tangled up in the doing that which unbalances the way things could just be. And be fine.
There are lots of flowers though. Just growing.
This is a photo collage. An accidental window. Lily buds over a stitched cloth I call Nine for Growth. In process.
There are thoughts about growth as Design Mending.
One thing over another and New Form. The thing that might run through it. Hold it together Because this is how my mind works. A lot.
In some simple way. I sense something IN me. The part that endures. That which does not break but bends. Does not break because it bends. Remaining ever useful.
It's a been a long time since I began the cloth we call Home.
So much time has passed. One needle. I woke up thinking that maybe the witnessing of time passing is as important as the cloth itself. (The children have been watching.) To know that it, has in itself, taken on the shape of persistence. Which clearly , on this day, I sense, once again, is the key to new form. And how we learn.
These final days with the cloth, I feel them as the most important. The freeing of the feathers and stones from the main cloth. Being one with that will stay with me forever. There is something special there. I think they have become more immediate as dream catchers. Free.
How dreams bend our waking thoughts. Give us a glimpse of the power of imagination. New eyes.
I look at these strings of feathers. What if I had sewn them all end to end. Would they reach around the world? Probably not you say. In my dreams, most definitely. I wake up. Yes they do. In so many ways not yet counted.
Because I decided it might be that for a while. Again.
Today I squared the basket. In some simple exercise. To see what I had previously imagined. I'd been thinking about that. I played around with a new patching technique. All the while thinking about the way things form. Rather than wallowing in confusion, how being able to understand that is helping me develop my means of expression. How I have become driven by that.
Technique is important in expression. So is idea. So often they are separated. One given more value than another. Sometimes though it is important to understand them as equal components of personal style. How one supports another.
There have been so many discussions about the relationship between these things. For me they carry the same weight. Every technique started out as an idea. No idea will live to be shared with out a path to execution. In my mind it is a simple math.
technique + idea = form
evolution of technique + evolution of idea = new form, eventually.
Process is evolution.
Sharing process insures the survival of form
which in itself is the essence of thought.
Anyway, the basket self is enjoying this squaring, For now, a new form to play with. While thoughts about sharing brew.