Spirit Cloth

Softer Yet

Big Beautiful Fog this morning, in waves, coming and going. Clarity, Blur-ity, Clarity, Blur-ity.

I have named her Dear. We've cleared some of the small brush and saplings on one side of the property, leaving the mature growth. There is more air flow and a longer view. Visual Paths.

Soup of the Day. In the big copper pot. Yellow Earth.

I am ready to move on from the frenzy. Let it play out. A soft optimism (joy) has resurfaced and I will not be thrown off course. Sharing what moves through me. It is still quite warm here, we are needing to finish up a few pre-winter chores. I am learning this new computer and have adjusted to the TypePad issues and I think it will all be just fine enough, here and at Feel Free. I am in no way done with all of this. Some audio and video testing soon. 2021. Here I come. If you don't need my blabber about life mixed in, you can subscribe to Feel Free only. 

Let's chill out. I will be back to Large Cloth in a more organized way with the New Year. For now, just Living and Healing from an awful year.

 

three +

Lots to say, or maybe I have already said so much about 3. It creates a sense of path.  I am also testing an image upload for TypePad. Trying to help. Why shouldn't I? Three tries. And of course, this is what happened today.  Lot of folks have unsubscribed to my posts in the last few days. Let's weed out the weak of heart. Shall we?  No te rindas! Grace.

And also this happened. I guess this is my equinox cloth. After 3 + tries, another photo.

PS. Fuck( such an effective word, clear anyway) politics. Not sorry.

I am not running a popularity contest here. I am after truth and this country is on the wrong track.

But I am clear in my mind. Neither "side" has a solution. It's time to admit that.

A Seeing Morning

Good Morning.

It's cool. Cool for the first time in a long time.

Evidence of cycle. I feel like this one was left for me.  Right outside the porch door. Yesterday's confusion led me to a small eye sampler started a couple of years ago.  Some eyes still colorless... "complete the full spectrum of vision" I said to myself. 

There are Shells of Summer everywhere. They seem like eyes today. New eyes. Old eyes. A reminder that we need all eyes. To see.

The first stitching was done on a single layer. I think I used a hoop. But I cannot find my hoops, tucked a way somewhere because I don't use them much. So I added another layer. Because it is easier to stitch on more than one layer without a hoop.  These stitches, today's stitches, go all the way through. I thought about through. Eyes that see through.  Different eyes.  Evolution. How many seasons will it take?

Then looking through New Eyes.

What I noticed here is how the running (walking) stitch outline seems like a solid line on this side. Because I can see the stitch where it disappeared as well. Appear and disappear have become one. Now that's a new kind of magic. 

They also look like some new life form.

Caught by Just going

Here I am. With a little help from a friend.

How about that? (quoting Mom here)

Path. On the wall. On the wall for many days, through this and that. Hasn't grown. Probably I set myself down by the stream of life, to rest.

Like most bigger cloths, smaller cloths find places to stay a while.

Now more than ever, I find myself acknowledging how hard it is to explain how I think, what I think, why thought is so elusive yet vital for understanding. How I've often compromised my true thoughts to accommodate connection. To validate, we seek approval by acknowledging a common path... Still, it is the strangeness of thought that I find most useful. How useful it is to realizing new form, even if no one else ever catches it. So much time passes, I feel someone somewhere must understand, but then after so much time of substituting the love of approval for personal truth, well, form often twists into some more acceptable shape.  Truth may simply not fit to the agenda.

Path has form also. How we go. In itself it is as much "a work" as it is "a way" to the work. It takes time to be able to step back and look at it. 

The other day, when I posted that lovely John Lewis photo over on Instagram, one of my followers commented "I'm confused, what the hell does this have to do with cloth?"  In a very tell tale moment, I deleted the comment and did not take the time to explain.  I think this is a sign of our times. And my age.

I did say to myself, though, the cloth is a metaphor. And I added , in my mind, "asshole". Was that me thinking? Or was it someone else?

Anyway, 3 things pinned there. Not just pinned, but thoughtfully pinned. This caused me to consider 3 aspects of path.  Path as a frame. How path becomes place and might hold and give meaning to what happens. Change it even. Path as pattern, simple as one step in front of another, maybe the result of a simple plan, and then how a shift in pattern, intended or not, might change it's form, how we might even see it as a mistake. And alliance, how something so different might fit by considering which parts lean into one another. Together how path is, again, a puzzle. 

These considerings are useful to me. For story, for form, to connect my life with my making. The question today, for me, is do you understand? Do I need you to understand.  Do you need to understand?  Is it possible to understand? Does it matter?  What's the use? Which will ultimately lead to... do I need to be here? These questions are for me, not you. Here, because Instagram is not the place for them. And I am afforded the luxury (privilege) to consider them.