A few days back. This one. The one that left an impression.
Because of the simple way it presents shift. How small things begin. How apparent they might become simply through quiet persistence.
But remembering what mom used to say all the time. Mostly about the quiet kids in her class. Still waters run deep. That is what she used to say. It's an old proverb of course implying that a quiet or placid manner may conceal a more passionate nature. But I always remember it. In some visual ways.
And so when I turned this over. Oh! movement. So taken with the arrangement created by the folding back I thought I might try piecing that. First I did a drawing (a drawing that will generate much more than this). Just a sketch of some of the different sections as they happened. Simplifying them as block like designs. And then of course redrawing them onto a square, that basic square size I have been using for 9 (still paperless piecing). The pieces were tiny, but I thought I'll try one, which was tedious. (Probably I'll change the scale before I do some others.) I persisted. Stitched it without contrasting thread to emphasize the thread that already ran through it.
I moved to the thread, I felt, sensed it. How the thread MOVES through it. Many deep things rose to the surface. And we have Nine for the Thread that Moves Through It*. It's all here for me. Patchwork. Nine. Line. Weave. Stitch. Thread. And how I might continue.
We live this way. Patching as we go. Using what's here.
Sometimes using the day to find just the right piece that might fit. Or fashioning one.
This is the sleep loft where it meets the stairs. The stairs I just painted white because I do have a lot of white paint left from something. And it makes a small room seem bigger. Photo by my boy. An early one that I have always loved because of how the distance eats the path forward.
I stitched two dyed corner patches together this morning. (dipped in Indigo twice, first clamped, then just dipped to get two tones.) I like the liquid path that formed. And the wings. I need to make more of them so I can complete a new Nine Lives Pat(c)h. I renamed the nine patch that a while ago. Nine Lives Patch. To imply the spirit contained in each one I make. The story really. Now, as a variation, I think Nine Lives Path would be a nice little series. The white linen here is still crisp and new,left over from the first linen blouse I ever made. I used to make all my clothes. I wondered why I am not doing that any more. I think it is because I am still wearing what I have. Yes. I am patching what I have. And I don't need much anyway.
Note to self:
The rectangle, the longer form, makes the Nine Patch into a Path.
It got real hot here, real fast. I let the color go for a moment.
So today we have:
A new Nine in cool linen. Nine for the Tendency to Wander. Just a play on lines, grain, off grain. Woven lines broken by seam lines. Just a simple slight shift brought movement. I concentrated to make sure that when I cut the pieces off grain, the lines would meet up and seem to continue. "Seam to continue" I was thinking. It's quite nice the way it waves. Almost curves, flows, in its illusion. And it's a path. And a kind of self portrait.
I suppose Path and Home have crossed over in my mind today.
I did do some stitching. The center panel is eco printed silk. You might find out a lot about the Eco Print process by looking into the books by India Flint. The only departure here is that I cut the plant material (in this case onion skins)into shapes because leaf prints are not my thing and everyone is doing that at this point. Right? Just trying to find my Way. I don't feel it is my place to teach this process. India is listed on my Placekeeper page under Wander and not Get Lost. I made a few jottings today. To gather my thoughts. Noting more than ever how they cross over. And Patchwork has surfaced again in more of a story form. I continue.
Ultimately I arrived here. With the Heart's Path at the center of Home. Now configured as some easy going Log Cabin arrangement. And I think I will leave the center block framed by a softer raw edge by simply making that seam inside out. Normally I might entertain doing these long seams on the machine. But I put the machine away for good. A long hand stitched seam is more like wandering than running toward a destination. So I will do a bit of that.
Notes to self:
1-The log cabin block is very much like a basket.
2-Seams might be used as personal symbols in some way.