This old house is such a Patchwork.
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. 
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