Spirit Cloth

First Frost

24 degrees.

If I had a pumpkin, the frost would be on it. Something carried mine away, in the night.

I imagined Sitting as a Pumpkin. A stray self, Pumpkin Woman. Been at a loss for words really.

Another Kind of Thread

Strings.

The Man spent some time untangling this puppet that made the journey here in a box with a lot of stray stuff. It was a time consuming effort. But now in working order.

It was so appropriate for these times really. As I ended up making a note to myself:

I've worked myself to the edge of the pieced area on one side of Holding Pattern. Working slow and steady, an hour in the morning with coffee, and hour in the evening before sunset. Up to here there are seam lines, blocks of space to help me not only keep track of progress but also provide a frame of reference. I am thinking I will have to continue soon, not knowing where I am.

Soup

Sometimes, just living can rescue you.

Every scrap from the garden and leftover food prep has been frozen since this pandemic has emerged. I guess I was in a panic early on. I did not let anything go to waste. Fearing not being able to go to the market. The freezer is filled with bags of scraps ( ha, patchwork again...) and broth made from them. I have also been ordering fresh frozen fish from Alaska, that and eggs being the only animal protein in this house. We have relaxed the Vegan thing, now evaluated as not really healthy, and more of a fashion. Trend is a difficult battle isn't it? Time to learn. It's a privilege to live long enough to make your own decisions based on experience.  And then to simply live it without trying to convince anyone else. And so ramen style soup is on the menu once a day.

And less sugar is the new goal.

And then Soup as a concept is on my mind. Soup as in compositional concept and the One-Ness it embodies. Which ingredient (component) will bring it together?  Give it identity. 

And with that in mind, I'm cooking up a few ideas. How funny it is to be considering adding "soup" to my Spirit Cloth Language of words. A Quilt is like soup. And Soup is a story.

It's also time to cut my fingernails. What day is it anyway?

I opened the Spirit Cloth shop with the intention of offering some old work for sale. In the season of Gifting. But I feel and hear the holiday season will just stress the mail to its limits and so it might be better to wait for the change of year. 

The Cure for Sick and Tired...

No need to name it.

Not counting days or naming them either. Just Going.

Colored Days

Maybe 5 days now, no sun. Maybe 5 more? But oh so warm. Windows open. No sun, but oh so golden.

Late Cosmos.

Glorious porch days.

More splitting, this one seemed to bleed.

Still in-between technologies. Mostly off-line this weekend. Getting things done. Considering the humor in that. Like anything ever gets "done".