Respect my work. Everything shared here is original , and holds personal value. Contact me if you wish to use or publish/pin my words or images. Context is so important to me. Thank you for understanding.
(right click the above mail thingy to copy email address)
And the last of the home gown indigo. Because the deer ate the last clump. Before it bloomed. No seeds. They ate the daisies too. Before they opened. That's it. The last garden. The planted kind.
I'm not exhausted, just Tired. Tired of dark days. But let's not dwell on that. Mom's words, don't dwell on that.
Ok. I noticed again the seasonal deck shibori. I closed my eyes and said across moons quietly to myself.
Consider how one thing becomes another.
And so with the last dips, that always work themselves more towards turquoise, I began to consider how one thing might become another. The indigo over rust. Moonish, but a bit like a world. And then I thought about worlds apart. Focused on the space between worlds. But then the line emerged on the fold that seemed to highlight the in between. And then, all the while trying to engineer a blurred edge. To soften the difference between what is and what isn't which always encourages what might become...I returned to some old considering of wings, how becoming is about living in between. Embracing not this or that but reaching outward in all directions blurring the edges of that and just going.
On thing might become another if there is enough time.
Vibrating outward is life.
SunMoonStars is a home base for witnessing change.
If we have enough time will SunMoonStars become anything. Everything?
Is focus really limited to itself, or just an anchor to the that which moves through us?
Can focus add the not just going to the just going. Intention?
Here. I like that the stitch seems to hold such intention. Running walking straight through it. Standing there.
Acorn found. Acorns dropping. Time to begin gathering. I make ink, and use the tannin rich bath for dyeing. I did a bit of stitching here. To build that cross from Nine. Part of my Nine Forever/Crossroads and how it implies endless expansion of center. And the balance in that. But that is way too deep for today. Today is a be outside day.
This one has been hanging around for a while.
I want to say that I look at it and I think the moon made her blush. And eventually she will find her new face. A stray might have many faces, but they are all who she is. At the moment.
It rained and rained and rained. Still raining. Still cold.
Cold enough to dull a mood. But not cold enough to stop the flow.
Yesterday, again too gloomy for video, I stacked some running stitch (walking stitch actually) on one of the dyed patchwork corner experiments I talked about here. A sort of double flow on this one. In sympathy with the day. It's a slow process. It took all day. And that was OK. The day was so liquid I lost track of time.
I worked the stitch in sections, changing direction. Filling in one color section that moved through the patchwork. And then connected the areas by filling in rows. You can shift the stitch as you go, to make gradual curves, bridge rows, or just be free and less even. It finds its own flow. It shows you how it might go. Don't you love how it has softened the grid? Because of how the thread runs through it.
Extended to make room, space,for more day dreaming.
Today three becoming Tree. Dream becoming place.
Maybe Conjuring a New Day I am thinking.
AS IF each day is Magic.
The eclipse was dyed by Glennis. The rest of the indigo cloth here , samples from cloth I designed while working as a fabric designer long ago. I don't know why there is a square drawn on that one scrap from grandma's quilt. ? I'll work with it. I really like how the running stitch can be roots here. My roots.
I'm wondering how big this piece might become. Because really there might be no end to my dreaming. Discovering the possibilities of self becoming. Which is really true, isn't it? Funny how we put frames around that.
PS, I've switched to safety pins during times of in between. Just in case.
I love Radicchio. As food. And for it's dramatic comeback after a deep freeze.
How its glorious center holds. How it springs forth and radiates outward. How lucky it might be, to just rest with out planning its entry into a new day.
The winter is not gone but signs of spring have been sighted everywhere. Although more cold might be coming, the weekend was gloriously warm.
I was stitching quietly this week. More like a doodling though. Some daily exercise. And then drawing. Which seemed almost like stitching. Drawing slower. Bit by bit with time in between.
This is the start of something(fuzzy pic because I just didn't take the time). The beginnings of two strays (still using up some of the threes I made way back in another winter) worked its way into some sort of transformation. Imagine flying I was thinking. The wings on the bottom figure, well, just a shadow, a dream. Above, poof, she's a bird!
He asked, "What do you want for your birthday?" She said, "A crow quill pen."
Working slowly without deadline or distraction is different. This is one reason why I closed the shop. I like the option to change my mind. To just go or not without saying. To make the promises made into a promise to myself. That only being to enjoy the making. To express myself in order that it might be useful. When life allows this, it is such a gift.
I decided to make this one longer. Skirt worked (1). And some work up above (4), making the alignment of elements vertical (3). I used what I call Liquid Applique (4,5) to give this one some movement. Season. Like it might always be changing. I created a page for that over at Feel Free, which is listed here in the Index at the right. There is a video there from way back.