Spirit Cloth: documenting old work

Eye

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 look, touch, maybe stitch, and then let go. Making space for big cloth. Big cloth going forward.

But now I want to look at all of them. Feel the volume of them. Feel the scope of them. Feel them. Gather their stories. And most importantly, see them as Patches. Puzzle Pieces. I will not have enough space I say. But then there is the basement. And the clothes lines. The ceiling? Oh ha! Let it all unroll then. The big, the small. All.

It has begun in some organized way, but it will soon fall away into some sort of dervish.

Feels so Good.

I think I will put some music on.

Signed

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 heart.

Something as simple a upside down (or inside-out)patchwork. That thought caught, tried. Tested. Remembered in the wee hours of a cold rainy morning. An unfinished wishing star that says it doesn't matter. An early Deb Lacativa dyed cloth that celebrates a friendship. Actually I remember where all the cloth came from. And some old classes when some of this happened.

Large cloth is where I began. Spirit Cloth. The blankets, the gift giving. The long, slow journey with cloth making. Because it is a story, it keeps going. A reminder of that.

I like working small. Firstly because if you are working with scrap, you have to begin there. You need small to build big. And small is endearing. Portable and easy to manage. Good for practice. But there is another reason to work small and that is if you are so inclined, selling is easier. Finishing is easier, letting go is easier. A large cloth is never selfish.

I've been here before, reconsidering large cloth, but I am here again. In a new frame of mind. Unrolling the bigger ones. They are like Pandora's Box. In reverse.

This house is a split level. I never liked them much. But there are highs and lows. Which offer new perspectives.