There was rain, a sea of sadnesses, the parting of that and now we have older and wiser taking hold.
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I have used the term design mending for a while now, all these years of working with cloth. Today, as I think of working in layers, how that is how image happens, (even if it is layers of time) I realize that all design is a kind of mending. This is important to me. My going.
And to day I really liked this.
I am not sad anymore.
Have a good weekend.
Yesterday the Man had a birthday.
I am smiling because I am happy to celebrate with him.
He is smiling because he is younger than me.
No gifts. Just smiling. He likes it that way.
I used one of the Pairings waiting for stitch on the wall, just to illustrate the fact that I think (a note to self) it is just grand that after all these years we might still be smiling. And that's enough.
Tomorrow is July. And I will be back to stitching and sharing and not just imagining.
(Actually, here I am already.)
A late night sketch.
Thoughts about story. The stray.
How a storyteller might weave time and place together. Master the art of just going and saving the thread that runs through it. Tell a better story. How then, a good story might become a kind of cloth. Woven to last. Mended with care. Given as a gift. How useful cloth can be. Have you ever counted the ways?
Life without cloth is a different life. We might miss it I think.
PS, This is a wonderful idea, isn't it? I hope they can make it happen.
3:56 Oddly warm enough to open the door in the studio for a bit....
Smells good.
A change of season brings shift, You can feel it. You can see it. The same landscape transforms before your eyes. More than a new place, it is like having new eyes.
I drew myself as a tree. Just a doodle.
Thoughts about the evolution of vision. Self as season. Not yet fully formed. Trying to understand the scope of the self portrait.
Today there was also a shift in nine.
Today, the cloth and I, we are leaning into November.
I took this picture out the studio window this morning. And how ever it happened, the light somehow erased the the view out the right pane. Taking pictures is such a great tool to imagine with. Extra eyes.
In simpler times, though, I used to draw. To catch a moment.
And still there are those moments when you only have your regular old eyes, and heart, and memory. To catch an early morning moment when a certain cat that you've loved and cared for finally pays back a favor. Just like that, he takes care of you back. We've crossed over into touching. And he is so soft.
Last night I went to sea by myself and waited for the sun to set. I was the only one on the beach. I walked home in the dark.
When I was younger I was afraid in the dark.
So I tried to imagine the dark as a friend. And I suppose that's how I met the moon and the wishing star.
These old drawings don't seem that silly to me anymore.
No post over at weave today. The man needs a ride from the airport.
There was an old linen. From Grandma. Last spring, maybe May even. (Grandma's name was May) I tried some ivy impressions that were less than ivy looking. I decided to make that the ground cloth here. New ivy over old ivy. And then maybe another try over that. My impressions of ivy are ever changing. Like May.
And April's impressions. I'll finish this up today. Good thing I have this to look at really. Because April went by in a blur. And it stayed that way, except for this.
Maybe monthly impressions are a good idea. And since now, today it is quite cool for May, a pot on the stove once again.
For all of you, Thank You, who signed up for yet another round of What if Diaries, a quick welcome note will go out late tomorrow evening. If you do not receive the email, check your spam and the email you use for PayPal before sending me a reminder. The series begins with Solstice. That is Saturday June 21st. Ending with the Equinox on September 23rd. After which my teaching format will change dramatically. Poof. Please note that initial enrollment will close tomorrow at noon. Because these are big groups it takes me a while to manage all the people stuff. Enrollment will open again on June 15th. You might sign up anytime during the series, it is set up as an easy summer thing.
This morning I notice the bright green baby ivy leaves, emerging without winter scarring. I imagined that the reason it is so hard to pull a patch of ivy, is that , in a sense, the plant gets woven together somehow. Life can get to be a tangle. Sometimes it is just that. That holds it together.
A few colder nights have set the color in motion.
Halloween cloth is still in process and the air is fresh and clear, a little woodsmoke wafting through it. Today is my last post for a while until I find my way back. There will also be a short gap over at Diaries (direct link to today's entry) .
(Note to self) Never let Wednesday go by without a doodle...
And in this year of getting old...
Some personal evolution. Revelation maybe.
Spirit Cloth Hybrid Series Copyright © 2013 Jude Hill
In the spirit of What-iffing and the never ending quest to merge my life's passions into one, and quench my thirst for illustration (where I started anyway) finally, I have been working late into the night, behind the scenes, to create a series of cloth-paper works called hybrids. I will not be showing them here. But they will be in the shop in a few different forms eventually.
I love them dearly.
I hope you do too.
So now I am off for a few days... See you later.
Ok. Maybe one more....
Spirit Cloth Hybrid Series Copyright © 2013 Jude Hill
If the path before you is clear,
you are probably on
someone else's.
-Carl Jung