Spirit Cloth

Hot in July

Humidity.

Humid is sometimes not even a good enough word.

The amount of water in the air makes it difficult to breathe.

Yesterday's shower still hangs  in the fern.  Animal life goes into some sort of suspended animation.  Plants rule.

Flowers burn with color. The  summer stray goes into heat, all the while July is growing another moon.

 

Heatwave

Today . The cilantro has gone to seed.

And we simply tried to stay cool.

Which was pretty much impossible.

Tomorrow has promised to be just about the same.

Blue is cool.

 

Ripping into it

Detail from Magic 2.

This cloth offers so much to  look at. Touch.  Probably I will spend the a lot of time doing that. Before I consider  altering it in any way.  I did a lot of cutting into and mending on this one.  Good practice.  Especially the cutting.  It helped me understand my relationship with ThingNess.  Soften it.

Soul-o on the other hand...

Is a ripper-upper by nature.

And me, a patcher.

High Summer is setting in. Plans have solidified. I will be away  for most of August. For those of you subscribed to Small Journeys, I will be closing the series at the end of this month, a few weeks earlier than planned because life has spoken.

This weekend is my brother's birthday so I will get myself in gear and makes some food for a small gathering planned for tomorrow.

How Time might (seem to) Stand Still

 

As time flies

so quickly in these days that offer me the sense of past that is larger than that which is in front of me...

I stop often  to look at how Making Marks Moment.

And offers evidence to others.

 

That I was simply there.

Hardly moving.

Freezing time. Like leftovers.

 

 

And Time Keeps Flying

This.

Time Flies.

Made for Glennis, from indigo dyed cloth dyed by her. For display at her booth at the Quilt Festival.

Along with plans to join her there. And then not possible because of MoM and other things.

And then returned to me, because someone wanted to buy it.

And then Not.

And hanging there . In the loft. So long. Who knows how long?

I took it down to paint.  A very light cloth. It has inspired new thoughts about old thoughts.(and probably eventually new stitches)

Thinking back to a time when I  began to work with indigo cloth and could hardly find reference to Indigo online, much less information on anyone who was dyeing with it. .  There was Stephen and Glennis and Laura and Tiggy.... quietly going.

Now  it is literally BLUE everywhere.

Note to self: Trend is such a swift thing. All of a sudden everyone is doing the same thing.  I wonder what the next one will be?

Funny how this cloth named Time Flies has now become a time keeper. Helping me to remember. To measure flow.

Full Swing

Finally.

I imagine that someday, sometime, what I expect to happen just might not.  For now, I am grateful to have these ripening tomatoes. And the reassurance of their continuing.

I stitched this  early this morning. It is not a 9 patch, but I really like these colors together. I am looking and thinking how one thing might replace another. How that might be less obvious over time. And simply seem like continuing.

The Woven Stray

One of a collection of woven figures, selves, started last summer while Considering Weave. Many planned to be components of larger pieces...

 

This one got away.

Like some do.

Folding Thought

Today, while making a birthday card for my brother, I stopped.

Noticed how a thought folded gives it new form.

I think I will write:

"Evolve. Keep changing."

He will be 60 this round. Like the Man, he will always be younger than me.

I posted  a question on Facebook last night.  Is blogging dead?  Because I have heard a lot of folks talking about that lately. Almost 100 responses. And very interesting. Yes and No and everything in between. Not dead but it has become old is what I came away with.  I am considering what getting old means. Often we speak of something becoming old.  I think it might simply mean useless. Or at least less useful in the context of what's new.  Maybe we project that on ourselves when we use the word as well.  I am simply considering  "old" today. As a word and how it is used.  Considering change and how vital it is.  Considering the form of what we do and its use.  Considering all of these things.

And a note to self: Now that I am older I feel more useful in a way.

 

How SHE goes

SHE is disappearing very slowly.  Into what is.  Will be. From what was.

After her face fell off, Ivy rushed to the rescue and has started building her a new one.  Holding her up as well. All the while She becomes food.

I was going to go back and link to all the past in which she appeared over the years. But then no. She belongs to the whole story.

And her ghost , on the second magic cloth, only just appearing.  Waiting patiently to be more.  I think she was calling.  Unroll me. Let me out.

Meanwhile

Unrolled.

Magic 2.

It's been a long time. 

I realize it is not a wall cloth. It's an up close cloth.

It's a touching cloth.

When the nights cool and the fire burns it will be back under the needle. For now some long looking. One side at a time.