As the winter moves in I look. Sometimes there is a big snow . Everything just seems to disappear. But more often and more interesting is the frost, or that surprisingly thin layer of white you might wake up to without notice. The skin of cold that coats the remnants of a season past. The skeleton of warmth and life is almost celebrated in the texture of frozen time. Giving pause.
I called this one the Tendency to Pull Together. Now aka White Love. Named for the reason of explaining how I feel when I look at it. What I imagined while making it. How I might explain a certain kind of persistence. How season might accentuate that. It has remained untouched for months now as my focus on white over at Diaries has taken a rest. But today the story is as clear as the day is cold. I say to myself... the tendency to pull together. It is always there. Through thick and thin. Rests, perhaps dormant, waiting for a thaw. But always there underneath.
There is no frost, no snow today. But there is this cloth that reminds me.
There was an X in the morning. I like how it was a marking nothing in a way. Just letting the light through.
There was an X in the afternoon. This is where the stump from the big tree pulled out of the ground. We had it ground down so we could expand the garden. I noticed the shadows from the branches above seemed to mark the spot very clearly in the afternoon sun.
Later in the day, I stitched one. An X. It was on my mind. That simple mark. Two lines paired in such a centering way. Just a little X. I am sure it will come in handy eventually. There are always spots to be marked.
I seem to have wound down. Not in a shop mood at all. The holidays make me dizzy. So, I think that's it for now. An X or two over a glass (or two) of good red wine. No big plans or news for the rest of the year. Just letting it go. Like it does.