...it's a beautiful cold shiny day and singing woman in under the needle again. And it is all one thing.
She has come together without a lot of saying that could be said, but I still remember each moment.
I am putting together (or trying) a project tracker for the Forever Zone.
I have come to realize the Poetry of Process.
With New Eyes.
I look forward to
considering/ reconsidering that.
It might be a little quiet here now, while I pull my selves together.
Before Coffee...
A mood swing, I am typing!
As Dad used to say, weather coming...
Dad was a seaman.
He, Soul-o, watches me make coffee. And then we go outside to dump the compost and get some firewood. He loves it when it's still a bit dark. He is a little bit like a dog lately.
This one, which I renamed On The Edge of Season not so long ago, has been on the edge of many seasons. It's under the needle again for Solstice. I thought I might let it go this time, but my thoughts today are...I can just let this one grow with each season, let it be as endless as I can manage.
I have reopened Feel Free. I had considered not doing that. But it is part of me now. Like this place, it has it's usefulness. And annoyances. The email feed here is just awful. It interrupts conversation and flow. Loading media is a nightmare. Commenting on and off. But I still want the day to day to be here. I did a post over there yesterday, and then another less messy one this morning...just to say I am back to documenting process. And for those who cannot seem to get my posts delivered from here, I will put links in newsletter posts over there. I know it sounds overly complex but how ever it works for you, let's just not worry about it. I am blogging here with process links to there. I am cataloging process there with links to day to day here. I will be just going. Just pick your portal.
I zoomed in but it was not clear. I think it was an owl.
I drew.
I thought about that again.
I talked. Please know, since I feel a lot of talking coming on, I talk from my Basket Heart, which needs to be emptied now and then. I am not an expert on anything and I talk to "myselves". I share, so you might know me in my moments. But I am not preaching.
link to audio if you see no player above.
And then I stitched a little.
I added two new categories here. audio/just talking and drawing. I will need them.
It snowed, just a little...
Yesterday. There she was.
The pond with no name. Miss Pond I have been calling her. I don't know her well enough yet. We can only see her when the leaves have fallen and the light reflects in the morning.
What is it about Winter's light?
There was a lot of considering.
Yesterday's self developed In Sympathy with a Winter's Sun. Thinking, the triangle at the bottom...a mountain...might be a new symbol. The mountain...as a challenge. She rises above it like a winter's sun rises above a cold hard truth. And these, the thoughts today, of vibrating outward, being a source of warmth, which in itself might encourage growth, growth itself being a form of the same, reaching out, and then, how enlightenment grows from darkness, and how you can never have too many eyes. Suddenly the mountain here became a kind of negative space, like poof, it's not a mountain at all and there are new eyes and suddenly she can see she has simply grown sky legs. Did the Winter Sun just whisper, yes, be lighter?
She is not done.
There were family gatherings but we were not part of them. I had thought of Pizza but there was light fasting and gratefulness and a bit of winter garden prep, a roaring fire and good sleep.
Today it is raining, soon to turn bitterly cold with a chance of snow. I hope so. Winter Sun on snow brings great light-ness.
Dense fog this morning. A relatively warm day.
I need to finish planting bulbs.
Some parts of circles can make boats too. And sails I have some of those... most of what I had here was just pinned. So I can switch them around. I needed a small fleet this morning. A community at sea. What if a community doesn't depend on location? There are also those who got left behind.
Fog over a small journey. Fog can be dangerous at sea. And also , I imagine, very beautiful.
I am not trying to be clear here, just dreaming. Enjoying the fog then.
If the path before you is clear,
you are probably on
someone else's.
-Carl Jung
