Spirit Cloth

Exchange

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.

New word in 2022

By breaking up the ground she stood on, her going, growing, was softened as if she re-formed in sympathy sempathy with something more liquid. Making for a more Peaceful Transition. 

Sempathy is my new word. And I think it might be a new word. Derived from sympathy and empathy, a transitional word that combines me and all of you/everything in a new way. Sempathetic Evolution then.

I used a fragmention field here, on the bottom and have added that to my Spirit Cloth Language glossary over at Feel Free.  This year I will be focusing on completing that glossary. Because I simply need to look at it as a whole.

...there was a small gathering with 

only as much wine that would fit

in a turkish tea glass.

we slept well.

Happy New Year.

love.

And yes, still fog.

Let it flow.

...as my mind wanders in December

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were just quiet stitches yesterday, the snow globe effect always surfaces in winter. And there is drawing now as I reconsider line on cloth. I can go there now by breaking my own preconceptions about what clothwork is. 

Now that posts here are not being delivered by email in any timely manner and I expect, soon, not at all, I tend to post more slowly, saving and adding over more time, like a diary, letting my thought drift through time. Feels freer actually. The no hurry to finish a post.

I am winding down for the year. I suppose I will hibernate for a bit soon.  Although it will be back up into the 60s by tomorrow. Time to redefine season I think.

I will try to talk about this small cloth tomorrow.

A Day is a Day

Gosh, I love not typing. There should be just talking here as well, but I am not ready. 

The Thinning

Last Night, the setting sun set the distant mountain on fire. 

We can see further now. Many leaves have fallen. I even caught a glimpse of the roadside pond below. I used to call it a lake, but it is small, and it has no official name. So pond I guess. I should give her a name.

I taped the small cloth to the window this morning.

The cloth I now call Singing Woman. I examined the thin spots, how perfect they seem. I wonder which parts of me would let the light through? Do I need to work on that?

This kind of thing results from managing layers. Some don't like that word but for me it is about maintaining balance. Nature does it so well. I used to manage a design department. At one point 11 people. Balance ain't easy. People. Like a layered cloth, lightness was always a challenge. But a beautiful thing. Like  a thing and then not so much of a thing at the same time. Fluid. And I said to myself this morning... Natural Order includes chaos. I wrote that down to remind myself. 

So, I have been stitching. Without a lot of saying. Very slowly. Expressing the standing. Even while feeling knocked down. Or so it seems. Some days.  

Does it matter what day it is? really...

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...

like most mornings lately...

Uncovering small journeys past.

This one came together during Patchwork in Perspective, while considering curves. It's been pinned to things and used to catch thought. But I always return here, it is still a fragment.  And I am just looking. At the cloth, and the loose thoughts caught there and thinking they are the same. And then the difference between word and image.

I considered continuing with Patchwork in Perspective. But I don't think I can. Not in any formal way. Things have a much softer edge these days, one thing runs into another. Ambition melts away. I even laugh about it. my momentary lapses in reality. 

The man made me a ring from his own hair. And believe me it's long enough. 

 

Getting Back

 

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.

To Fall into it

It's Fall.

And then thinking about Fall. Leaves Fall. But leaves are let go to make room for new leaves.

Our sweet Michelle gave me this little hoop. I played with this photo. I highlighted what might be held by this small gift. And I added a garden layer, the season. Fading.

I say to myself, the layering in photos, as well as digital drawing, can be a tool, for helping form evolve in my story cloth.  But then too, tools need to be an extension of those who use them. That is the complexity in the relationship.

Some stitching then, continued from here, yesterday, but more realizing again, how the nature of cloth, it's flexibility, how cloth is like clay, like breath, like extension of self.

I'm in a mood.

Moods are useful.

Expecting days of rain here. Again.

 

shifting perspective

Also I am thinking about tree forms.