Winter is settling in and Solstice approaches which always offers a new sense of balance to Just Going. I will be stitching and Wishing and whispering over at Diaries this month, posting every day until that day when the sun seems to stand still. At which point I shall sympathize with the season and spend quiet time with friends and family until the year turns new. If you are subscribed to What if Diaries 1, I will be placing a star in the right sidebar, later today. that will guide you to the wishing segment each day until the 21st. Most likely posting in the evenings. If you are interested in What if Diaries 2, well I don't know yet.
Much energy will also be, needs to be, put into the large cloth, the Magic Feather Cloth I call Home, after all it is a gift, a Wishing Cloth. And it's time to see some of them come true.
Otherwise, my presence on the web will be rather thin. Comments are off through December, posting will become sporadic. Shop is closed, we''ll see, the last thing on my mind really. Wishing you all a wonderful turning.
There is a bit of stitching to go on this one, but really it is close to finished. I suppose I am thinking how sharing a common sense of things helps us get through. I think the center section initiated that sense here. The beautiful space that opened up between moments. It reassures me of the beauty in that. It's a bridge.
Direct link to today's What if Diaries entry where my current focus is Three. .
Into the through space that defines going beyond the span of the wings.
This is important. It is a hopeful place that conquers fear and reinforces trust. A channel, a ring of vision that has imagination as a guide. Edges can dissolve here but the circle will remain as a natural order. The path will be continued by a sense of something safe.
Thoughts about traveling. About going. About how that is that we go. Here, There.
When Mom was ill, I took many photos. Images were so important to me. To record. I wanted to be able to relive moments without the context of expectation. Then, after she left, I looked and thought, I can't publish these. She wouldn't want that. I put them away. Not even wanting to look anymore. Today I share this one. Mom, looking for something in the pantry closet. She shortly after forgot what she was looking for. We put a little LED lamp in there for her. She could hardly see. When I first took the photo, well, it spooked me. Now some things hauntingly beautiful have caught me.
The light. Its coldness. Her, walking into it.
Her hair, distorted by laying down so much . Arranged as if a big wind blew in behind her, pushing her forward.
The door. Open. The writings inside record the heights of children through the years. Lines drawn and dated. Names. Us. Me, My 2 brothers. Then my son, my nephews. So many marks. There. To keep her from falling backward.
Her. There. In between. Held between past and future. Present. How going has a sense of that.
The familiarity. The place. Mom. The journey story.