Over the summer, cloth has accumulated on the walls. By the end of Magic Diaries, I came to accept cloth as my context in some more real and physical way. I've been hanging everything. Cloth over cloth. Thought on top of thought. Observing how one might become the base for another. Letting things appear and disappear. Fall into places. Fill space. Change face.
New layers have been deposited without worry. I was cocooned. Feeling safe among layers. And now closed in with a need for thinning. Peeling. Like old paint.
The Magic Feather cloth has simply been home for some other stray thoughts for a while. Time to give it space to become more of itself once again . Today it comes off the wall.