The Explainer, travels with the cloth we call Home.
He is a pocket, a safe keeper, maybe for questions or anything else that needs to rest. And he might be a traveling companion.
Or he might stick close to Home.
I am done. Shooting photos and preparing a site (link to be published soon) where the project might be reviewed in the order of days. Gathering the pieces of the long story has taken time. Longer than planned or imagined.
Now just getting ready to pack it up and let it go. Solstice falls on Sunday. And so does Father's Day. And the same day is the day my mother died, already 2 years ago. How did that happen?
I am truly exhausted, but in that good way. Like a long day in the garden.
These ribbons of feathers will act as ties for the large cloth we call Home. And then who knows? I've enjoyed this final process. Making strings of feathers. Dreaming into them. Imagining them as representing the PieceMakers, hand to hand, reaching from here to there. Standing for hope and kindness. Ties that bind. Strong and useful. And then light as dreams. Blowing in the wind.
I have spoken to Wendy. I will send the cloth on Solstice. She will wait for it. Welcome it. It was a warm talk, this one. Filled with knowing each other better. She brings out the love in me which sometimes gets clouded by all the crap that makes up a life.
But I guess that is just what she is good at.
I've been working hard to pull the story of this cloth together in some cohesive way. No small task, this was one big journey. Tangled up in a life.
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.