We went to Brooklyn yesterday.
To pick up scrap wood for burning.
To see The Boy. A man really.
Before we left I noticed the dust on the old wheel.
It sits atop of the old dusty loom. And I wonder why I have so many things I don't use much. Maybe simply because one season turns into another so quickly. Or I just love them.
Today it is warm. Raining. We need the rain. The sound of it on the studio roof, is extra comforting because of that.
This morning, an old dusty photo. The boy, so much younger, in Nana's basket hat.
I love him. And the old sea behind him.
And I love the rain. How so far it always returns here. Nine for Rain unrolled, waiting for a bit more stitch. I wonder how today will change it. ?
