Spirit Cloth

To See into Going

It was Dad that taught me what little I've been taught about composition.

Or perhaps I just remember it that way. What's been useful to me.

Art school was not useful to me. Maybe because I was distracted. I think it reminded me of high school, where all my self esteem got jumbled up with competition. And pimples.

This, that Stray Abstraction, turned out to be more of a Stray Distraction.  From anything and everything. Maybe CobbleCloth might come to mean just that. Patching a daydream. With a basket of misfits, and a little time to consider. Even the stitching was done using short threads from the nest (the original ThreadCrumbs). The parts are all there I suppose, floating in the fog of mood.

And with Dad's advice...
"...a good composition works in any direction, you might be surprised..."

A Spirit of Distraction I think, aka Free Falling.

And I am. Free falling. Through this month of February. Knowing I will land somewhere eventually. And keep going.

The roof is not fixed. We've been informed we need to wait until the temperatures rise. And it needs to be the whole roof.  We will cobble together a new plan. Think outside the box.

 

enough pink

Today. Or yesterday.  Maybe tomorrow. Just another day. But not.

I've decided to focus on a body of work. I suppose it will take me some time to explain this. Even to myself.

The Softening of Winter

Dried Zinnia.

Faded. Still from seeds from Mom's Garden.

I like perennials, the ones that come up by themselves. Over and over.

But there is something special about being part of the planting, and gathering and planting again process. Not just going, but going with tender loving care.

It's been cold, not that cold but the grey cold that nags on you after a while. I'm tired of it. Tired of keeping fires, tired of spending more time indoors than out. Tired of the news. Dry skin. Laundry. You name it. I'm tired of it. February. Every year. The winter bitch returns.

I've got a lot of the old unfinished ClothWoven pieces on the wall today. Because I love them. Looking. Not stitching cuz my fingers are split and chapped from the cold and hauling wood, and washing dishes and such. This one is an old wishing star.  It's the first time I have looked at it as a basket, the wishing star. Basket self in new form. The center was like heart but now I think it is more like wishing self.

Wishing is softer than bitching and it is Valentines Day so I'll be nice.

 

TwoGether

Together. Like one.

But Two always.

I used the last of some old roll of magic. Sometimes things run out. Get used up. Sometimes you can make more. Depends on what's on hand and whether your heart's in it.

I still have so much more to share about technique. Sometimes it is hard to stay open. But I'll keep going. In these times of selfish discontent I am happy to have this as what I can do to make  america great again  the world  a kinder place. Share without boundaries.

The cloth weaving method here goes beyond what was presented in Cloth to Cloth. And I have taken it much further without showing.  I want to share more here then, opening up part of the advanced cloth weaving methods with this new year. To prepare the way for brand new content. 

Cloth Weaving Without a Foundation then... I made the roll of magic weave on a larger loom, but not everyone has one of those, so you might start like this.

 

 

click here to watch video if you see a blank box or no player

 

I will add this to the index at Feel Free later today.  I am still needing to learn a bit more before switching to the new site.  For now it's fine.

Connection in February

Sunday. the 12th of February in the year I turn 66. (Not today, but soon)

It might have been Michelle's comment. On yesterday's post.

Today's nine is the closest thing I could get to violet, rummaging through the prepared squares in the basket, here, by my side.

From left to right...

Old linen from grandmas' table cloth.

A patch of the first muslin I ever used to stitch.

A white flannel from my son's baby pillow.

A square cut from a seamed patchwork leftover.

The center, a pairing with a bit of stitch to honor the seam.

That old linen again.

Flour sack cotton, a leftover from when I made my own dishtowels. They never wore out so I haven't made any more.

A lined linen that reminds me of notebook paper, I designed it when I was working.

A cotton lawn with a print that reminds me of seeds. I think I rescued it form somewhere.

So the center, I like that the center and the piece to the left come together to form a square of color that shifts slightly from the expected grid. That the red x adds warmth to the blue violet, making me imagine a warmer color, the one I need.  I like that all the color there is like a blending. And I remembered the rings.

The amethyst from grandma, a February Gal, like me. And her daughter, my Mom, and her star sapphire which she loved so much because it was from Dad. How they seem like the colors here.  How in their connection they feel like I feel.

 

Not Stalled

The voice of deep winter works it's magic.

Keep Still. Wait.

But keep breathing. Stay alive.

My mood is not light today. But I am ok with that. Part of me is sleeping. Part of me is not. I want to stitch on the center cloth (from here). I want its name to be Arising from Inner Warmth today. I guess that makes it a bit heart-like (which has me thinking about love). It sits in between The Old Seeing Eye (looking back to that) and To Keep from Screaming (here).

I want to stitch, yet, I am waiting, staring. Breathing. Alive.

Maybe you are too.

 

 

Just February

Big snow. Heavy wet snow.

Tough shoveling.

There was neighborly cooperation, and we are dug out.

Last night there was clearing and moonlight and a deep freeze.  I sat for a long time watching as the wind blew the heavy snow from the branches. They seemed to sigh with relief. And I along with them.

It will remain frozen today. We are just hanging out in the room warmed by a wood stove. Planning a pot of soup. I feel calmed which is enough of an accomplishment for today.

Winter settles in.

February is my birth month. I was born in a snowstorm.

I know there will be snow, at least in February.

Blizzard watch today. It began before dawn. The quiet wakes me.

I needed the blanket of quiet yesterday. My mind is worn out.

I'm sitting at the mending table.  Some self care. I am going to sit here all day and watch. Catch up on email and stuff.

Continue stitching on an older piece that just became bigger. And more useful.

I have decided to call it to keep from screaming. I have been thinking a lot about voice lately.  Being confused about that.

The stitched patch is like the snow. It came like season. Winter's voice. Looking for a word other than resistance.

.........

We expect more than a foot of snow today. With high wind. We are prepared, we lose power here often during winter storms. Enough wood has been stacked indoors to keep both stoves going if necessary.

CobbleCloth and abstraction

A way of roughly creating a patchwork I guess.

Collage without a foundation.

 

But I think, for me, very much a scrap-work method that addresses seams as an overlap rather than a fold. But then also and most of all, a combination. Assembled from available parts or elements. Components. In a sort of Grab Bag technique. A just going kind of piecing. But not without thought.

How that encourages free form. Which in turn encourages new form, which encourages reconsideration. Which eventually encourages evolution.

I cannot talk enough about this today.  Early rise and a day filled with things you wouldn't choose to do but better get done.  So let me get through it and then my days will be more open.

Moon Cabin

Sooner or Later...

I love that expression. How it works.

So here I am. Ok. Still a full day tomorrow for loose ends. But I've been here and there and all the while stitching small cloth.

This log cabin format, so easy with a bag of scraps.  Moon in the middle this time.  Some kind of home from another kind of angle.  The log cabin quilt has a long history, many patterns emerged from the way it is arranged. But the block itself always says home by it's nature, how it holds and spirals around center. I always liked that part. I was thinking of making houses out of them. But then, in my mind, they became big enough to hold a house.

But really what caught me this time is how home can be the simpleness of one's own world.  And so I like the idea of the moon-cabin block. I do. As I rest in the idea of simpler times. Like I do. When I need to. And I'll name this small cloth after that. A simpler time.

Home might be small but it always holds the Moon. Or the sun. Or the Stars.