Spirit Cloth

How and Why. What. Continued...

It was a long noisy process but it went well. The large white oak was tall and had split into multiple trunks, maybe 5 or 6. They came with a bucket truck and wove in and out of the power... Read more →

Slow ClothWork

At Eye level... I was thinking. So many cloths to be hung, I said to myself, not considered finished. Not including the Sanity Series which needs to remain rolled for the moment. That's a private collection. My purpose was to... Read more →

Bigger Cloth, higher ground

For a while, smaller cloth. But the unrolling has been a reminder. Coma here again, still ragged and raw, still holding together after years and years. A documentary, a teacher, a blanket, a world. A timekeeper. A journal. An open... Read more →

Late August Patchwork

Acorns have been falling. Mostly encouraged by squirrels. I've been thinking about my folks. It always comes in between seasons. The two acorns reminded me of them. Together. Through whatever was. Yes it's been a bit cooler. But this week... Read more →

Being In It.

I used to paint and draw all the time. Self Portrait. Being process. 1974 There has been a lot of sorting through old journals and drawings this year. The Loose Pages. At one point in time, I cut a lot... Read more →

One and sun

Numbering just to keep track. Why not? In a way I am measuring time. So I marked this one 1. I do remember starting here. The old cloth has writing woven right in. But it is hard to see what... Read more →

MapMending

The sun is out. Old sea, she greets me each morning. Soul-o likes it better ON the table. I did not record the making of this one. Not like I do now. Long ago, I found a roll of old... Read more →

The Cat Quilt

A blanket. One of my biggest. Eighty inches square. It was meant to fit a queen size mattress. Where can I hang it outside? There is a big drop from the back deck. I tacked it to the outside of... Read more →

Gathering Loose Self

I am really tired today. I get confused by a shift in light and dark. It is very dark. No Sun. For days, and days to come. This shifts my sleep cycle, since the sun is my alarm clock. I... Read more →

The Last Garden

Summer. Things grow and bloom and shift. Change. But not as usual. Here he is with his I'm not sure about you posture. Things are green and lush here. Yet they don't seem right. The garden looks great. Smells great.... Read more →