Spirit Cloth

Stitching an Ode to Moss

Tomorrow.

The roofers will be here tomorrow at 7AM.

I added some green moss dots to the roof. Held inside the extension of the body that connects Kantha Legs with Basket Breasts. She is now shaped by the memory. As we so often are.

I'll be away for a bit. And then back again.

Things come and go

Many arrangements were washed away with the day.

I ended up with this.

She. Still standing. Not swept away. Washed by it, that which flows through. Kantha legs are strong.

The additions are all silk. Which started with the foggy silk moon, veiled in summer leaves, a reflection of the moody day, the dot itself in sympathy with the house of time passing. The background in sympathy with blue already there. Blending.

And then the river. Nobody does flow better than Glennis. I love her shibori silk ribbon because of that, and how it is so liquid. You can make it flow around anything, if you have the mind to try.

I imagine there will still be wings. It's not time yet.

How it Becomes

She Becomes.

She, being story, when you step back.

I often fill in around a design. To mend it. Using the original base as a kind of foundation. Not always covering it completely but sometimes that too. My work often vibrates outward, from a center. As a building method. Not always apparent when looking at the final piece. Because each moment is a center, as that happens.

I used a butterfly patch here, another dyed component. More about that symbol later...

I wanted to mention the sympathy factor here, as it relates to the evolution of form that the piece takes. And the term Sympathetic Evolution that I began using way back while trying to explain to myself how it might happen, what I do . It's about not having a plan, or the judgement about what's best. Or fit. Or permanent.  But it is more about a sensitivity system for becoming. Not necessarily logical or rule bound.  The evolution part is  simply the focus on gradual development of what I am working on. Process. The sympathy part is really focused on compassionate placement or choice of elements. And how one thing touches another in the moment. Intention simply becomes a cleaner energy.  Which makes the change in form tied more to the immediate personal love of how it might happen, how one thing touches another, than to any theory of change or presentation. Which, makes it into new form in my eyes. And magic in terms of how things might appear. Which always amazes me. As does how they might just disappear. Poof.

Building form through compassionate change and sharing it. Makes art into a form of kindness.

Was that cryptic? I hope not. Today this is the best I can do. One of my goals was to communicate something through cloth-making. I hoped I could. Use it for that. Since my human connection skills were never good. So you see all of this searching for explanation is as much for me as it is for you. Thank you for the opportunity.

The roof materials were just delivered by forklift. They are loud just sitting there.

Summer

Summer has turned. I can feel it but really I can hear it more.

Bug songs. The world turns.

We say a fond goodbye to the mossy roof this weekend. It seems there is more moss than roof and it needs to be mended. The torrential rains only get worse and it has become ridiculous. Too much water damage. So we bite the bullet and go for it. Nice guy, one day he says. Monday. One long and noisy day. The red is more expensive so we've settled for tree bark color. Good enough.

Stitching has been slow. The breasts are like baskets. Even how they are forming. There has also been some vibrating inward. As it all moves through her.

How Humidity Might Inspire

The rain was monstrous. Flooding.

And now just clouds, and mold, and dank air. And a chill. Imagine that.

I have the kind of hair that frizzes and stands on it's own in this kind of humidity. It used to be very stressful when I was trying to look groomed for work. For a short while until I just said, too bad, take it or leave it. Most often, in summer, I walked around with a halo.

HOME WOMAN, continued from here... One strand of thread, split back stitch, which I call (so appropriately today) splitting hairs. Just letting the knots show here, and letting the ends do their thing. They will probably split on their own over time.

So anyway today is a good hair day. Because I like this.

.........

Knots don't have to be hidden. They can be beautiful. If you have been through the Whispering Hearts class, you might Remember This?

knots as an edge

 

Suddenly. House of the Rising Sun.

In the shop.

Less plugged in. Reconsidering that.

Not a plan, but a sense of need. For the hottest part of summer.

It's this dark today. Slow rain. And cooler, wouldn't you know...

The man has his computer in this small back room that collects stuff. We unloaded all the stuff. So one of the studio tables has been moved here. And all the electronics are in here. The room with a buzz. Not the bee kind. I've tried it before, but this time, it's working. I get up, make coffee, go to the studio and there is no computer. Just cloth.

It's real nice. Starting and ending the day without a screen. More continuing. Better priorities. Computer. Out of sight, out of mind. The studio has  a table and a chair. For drawing and journaling and spreading out ideas. No buzz. Except an occasional bee or a mosquito because the screen needs mending.

And since I'm here, plugged in, he is there. ChairKeeping.

So probably my posts will more like midday or afternoonish. After coffee takes hold. Sandwiched between quieter times.

Quietly thinking all weekend.

Simply patching. Just enough.

I love this. I say to myself.

It's good to say that I think. When it's so true.

To be able to say that. To love it. Amid so many conflicting expectations.

I experimented a bit with creating dimensional shading with flat piecing and partial dyeing. So really if I get into the detail of it, not that simple. Really. But quiet.

Ghost Lines

Some new version of ghosting yesterday.

Ghosting is a term I began using way back here, almost at the beginning of the blog. I'd like to gather my past thoughts and make a page for it at Feel Free. Because I use it a lot, in many yet unspoken ways, to build images. It has a lot to do with sympathetic evolution in design, and impressions. A very special kind of layer that often floats in between the planned and unplanned. The there and the not there.  Seems a form of magic, appearing and disappearing. Time like.

Yesterday though, a new and simple version emerged as I drew my thoughts freely without too much worry. From yesterday's sketch but without looking back at it. I asked myself how important was it to replicate a moment (?) vs just continuing. And then, as if to say the correct lines themselves didn't matter, I made them white. Because it was like erasing them, or taking them away. Erasing doesn't really make things disappear. They are remembered.

Just to get it out...