Singing Woman of the Woman Series. (a series of Selves)
I darkened the edges of her world. The indigo vat was so ready.
I am going to set up a project page at the Forever Zone(part 4 of Patchwork in Perspective)for her. For selves. Because she is not done. Not even close. I suppose you might be able to relate.
It happens. Things do become more difficult as we age.
I made this ages ago.
I thought it simply illustrated limitation. The cropping. Still fits in the puzzle. Quite beautifully.
When I find some time, I am going to make this on a larger scale. Here, based on a 3" square. I call it Nine for limitation. With a small l.
I will be away for the day. Eye Surgery for the Man. Me, the designated driver. Hey Ho.
On waking, I thought Thank you.
Then I thought, who is You?
She is still here. Under the needle.
I extended her red. Still using the leafy shapes available in the weave-sketch. Mane, Red, Fire, Reaching. Change. I will bring some green into her. Exchange. An exercise in liminality.
I see this as part of Sempathy. Evolution.
I should talk. But it is difficult here.
Really what I want to say is it is not about you or me or he or she or we or they, or even the thing. It (and what is it?) is about exchange. That is what makes us useful.
It's 13 degrees but the sun is out and I need to go outside and breathe it in. Gather my selves. Have a meeting. About the New Year, which at this point seems as if it should be marked by my upcoming birthday. A more important point for Mapping. Yeah, I need some time.
It doesn't here.
There is no time here. Just Slower Cloth.
I have removed the date from the posts. That solves the problem for me, days without edges...although that would drive the man crazy, he is a numbers guy. Anyway, the feed is not working properly but it seems to publish by email eventually so I think, ok, stuff will be here, there, wherever, when it is there. ok.
Just the time it took.
Today? There was a moment of sunlight but the storminess has returned. It might be yesterday for you. But for me, just new indigo leaves.
I moved The Deep Pool of Thought to the wall next to the computer. So there might be some crossover while I type. It had been pinned over A Nest of Days.
I just wanted to look at it again. I asked myself if I should make it bigger. I didn't answer.
Now, some time off, whatever that means. See you later...
Good Morning Ragmates.
Today will probably be the last really warm day here.
The maples over the ridge have turned golden. Isn't that amazing?
Been exploring this land. As it turns out, there are walnuts here. Right Here. As Mom used to say...How about that?
The dyepo(e)t waits.
Reconsidering path has brought me to The Tenderness of Place aka Everything is So Fragile (I decided, yes, yes I could, I could name them all that, it works right?).
There are things. I will be away for a bit. Away from here, home that is, here and there, but maybe still posting. We'll see. Just little things, no worry.
I woke up. I looked. I wove into the edge, some old pink silk that was nearly to thin to stand on its own. I need time I said to myself. Then, the hearty laugh I needed so badly.
So here I am we are, today...
So many thoughts went through my mind as I stitched.
Yet, I was not prepared to catch them. I long to really get through it, making a cloth with a true sense of how it happened, openly shared. Even if for my own curiosity, because it's as much of a mystery to me. It is quite a challenge to remember to let it flow. How interruptions are just as much a part of it. The forming.
I am calling this The Uphill Climb. There is no figure yet. I am not sure it is needed.
I (the man has been a little bit low energy lately) began the clear marking of paths that will span this hill. Only the birds will see the spiraled plan. I am using some of the wood, split before we came here and left under the non protected part of the porch. I was clearing under there, too damp and moldy, and the wood too rotted or full of bugs, but ok to line the paths, to define them and later we will lay wood chips to keep the undergrowth at bay. And that redbud, nice in spring, but doesn't really get enough sun. It might have to go, for a longer view.
It was around this time almost 2 years ago that we knew we were probably going to move here. My sense of time is so strange now. But a circle always helps me realize it doesn't matter.
Moving some firewood today.
And I renamed this many times but today I will call it just that.
On the Edge of Season.
The whole forest
smells like grape jelly.
I'm not exaggerating.
I need (to become) a bigger basket.
23. 23 degrees.
First glance out the window and my thought was, it's true, the aliens have landed. Or maybe they are leaving. In any case these are strange days.
I missed yesterday's train . Of thought.
I added a layer of drawing over Holding Pattern. I talked to myself.
audio link if you see no player above.
I did more drawing. Thoughts for quilting/securing the space around the pattern. Which is a kind of basket. Self.
The question, not so much about pattern but the visibility. Darker thread? Or lighter thread? And will visibility disturb the space? Maybe just walking stitch or ? a more textured thing? I will talk to myself again.
If the path before you is clear,
you are probably on
someone else's.
-Carl Jung