That wind, that signals change, blew in this morning. It may not linger day to day, but it has arrived. I could see it in the treetops before it came through the open window. The wind that makes everything smell different.
It is going to be a big acorn year. The squirrels are beside themselves. ( I was going to say in heaven, but we all know where that concept has gotten us to) It's the most joy I have seen in a long time.
The acorns are different here. And quite honestly, so am I.
I don't know my oaks well. I might study up. Make that a priority.
It's a clear day, and I slept long and deep. I had a dream, Soul-o wanted to visit the old place. When we got there he met his former self at wood's edge. They did not hit it off. He asked to go home. I woke up and here we are.
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I am a firm believer in Form Follows Function. And to extend that into the spirit of the thing, if you have no use for what you are making/doing, it will not turn out to be anything much at all. Usefulness is a broad concept. Maybe you need to make a living, maybe you need a blanket, maybe you need simply to see what happens. But there has to be something. For it to be something.
This one is forming. Through intention. Even though I remain on the edge of what it might look like. I want it to be a two sided blanket, I don't want one side to be more than the other. I want it to center me and yet express empathy. To give visual form to that. No matter what it looks like.
The red. Such an odd addition. But I like that it fits, make the candy colors work more deeply. As I drew and expanded the original red lines, stitched and then thought the split stitch was too blah and would also take too long, I switched to my signature Wrap Stitch, (here, stitched only on the top layer) I drew some dividing lines, for the bars, and suddenly those spikes seemed like backbones. And courage popped into my head. And then the words...to become whole again, to heal, requires courage.
I spent a long time stitching, and not one single minute watching either convention. I feel clear headed. And that is what I need this one for.
Jar 1, Rainwater and whatever fell in there since we moved here 8 months ago. Oak droppings mostly. a penny I found in between the boards on the deck, along with some loose moss scraped from the steps.
Jar 2. A few weeks of tea bags, some coffee grounds, oak galls that fell to the ground, a piece of muslin wrapped around an old metal key wrapped with copper wire, some of what was in jar 1, and oh, 2 wildflower blooms at the last minute. Heated once and set out to brew for a weeks.
But not cloth. Love is that. Love is the thing that keeps going. Asks for nothing in return. It is rare and not as common as it is made out to be. I think the word love is used too loosely. That is what is running through my mind this morning. With coffee. And no glasses. Suddenly I seem to be able to see without them.
The stitched spirals are rather loose and random. That's enough. I will look for some indigo cloth to cover the back edge. If I don't have enough I will dye some.
Then. Sometimes it doesn't. One day you might be standing, the next day, not. Why? I laugh. Hindsight won't change this moment.A few days stitching spirals. Coffee but still inching along.
I marked the meeting place after Liz's comment on the last post. I was going to say yesterday but I missed yesterday.
Dad's blue bowl, now a bee refreshment station. I think he would like that. Yes, I still know him after such a long time gone.
