Spirit Cloth

The Drawing Table

I did not order a stool. 

Enough.

A cloth rests on the table. For now.

To me it is a kind of paper. Paper, a kind of cloth. In my mind I often weave them together.

The wall cloth dyed by Richard Carbin.  (in my resource list, sidebar) Isn't it beautiful?

I will put this table on the porch in the spring. When the roof isn't leaking and there is sky lighting. I think I might create a wooden frame that might be attached to accommodate some weaving as well. 

I made a change to the roofline. Because my mind kept doing that. Just the line, like drawing. Balance.

A simple morning with questions

Yesterday, such a sweet day, I forgot to take pictures.

The Boy is fine. The woman is fine and we all went out for sushi!

The true sense of a simpler time filled me.

I've lost my way here, it feels a bit like that today. 

I am wandering.

But it feels ok.

I am slower.  

Could I just work on this forever?

When does slow become just not going?

I guess I could answer that in many ways.

When the Sun is Hiding...

The sun came up, almost,

but now it is raining, leaves and water,

figures I just washed the car after 2 years.

A sun roof then. 

I keep finding feathers.

I imagine building a loom out on the porch. After the roof gets fixed, part of which will be skylight. To let the sun in. Cheaper than wood these days, believe it or not.  And I went all out and ordered a drawing table.  I didn't need one, I wanted one. Going to hell with myself. (An evil laugh)

I am not an artist, no, I am just going. To see. I need not more.

I wrote this on a scrap of paper yesterday, and then I think the man threw it in the fire by accident. Because it's gone. A hearty laugh...

The Boy will visit today. That will be like the sun is out.