December is a month for Mending in my little world
This blog (and my Feel Free teaching site) will be under maintenance until the New Year. Up and down until it feels ready to continue whatever that means. This is just a post to let you know. Navigation may be limited as things get rearranged. OK then, thank you for your kind patience. Have a good holiday, whatever that might mean to you.
PS. You might find me on Instagram now and then.
Hanging here, these small loose favorite things, I used to dress up this ugly chandelier when I moved here...(do you believe we are almost a year in?) they have come to be quite handy in these stay at home times.
The thing about hanging...
...is that a thread is often involved, at least here, hanging by a thread.
Thread is good. It's the part of the equation that we can use for change.
This is an old piece. I just named it Coming Back to Life. Normally I might go back and check what I called it way back when. Catch that thread. But I am wondering how useful that is. The story is already in me and maybe the current thread is what I should go with. To continue. Today is a loose patch.
It is still warm here but that will change soon enough. I have collected a lot of plant material here and cooked up an Earth Yellow brew. I often over-dye but rarely over print. I am thinking about that today. That thought is hanging in my mind. By a thread.
Things will be a bit piecemeal here for the rest of 2020. I think I will pull it all together with the turn of the year. Still stitching on Holding Pattern. It's a gift to be given by year's end.
Ps. I feel Good.
The Cut:
The cut is hard sometimes, but I have come to love it. It is a wound, a hole, an opening, a separation, a new edge, a space, a way through, an undoing and a challenge. A letting go.
The Patch:
The patch is, well, quite simply a way to solve a problem. So it might be anything and everything we might use to do that. We could whittle it down to simply, an idea.
The evidence of path:
Story. How did it happen?
Most often, I cut through to make things smaller, to look through, or to weave through. Cutting away , as in erasing, that falls into another category. Much less drama, unless it annoys you to change your mind. The cut through is exhilarating. I think it shows a confidence related to understanding your materials. Or simply a curiosity that needs to be exercised. And it won't kill you. When I weave into, everything becomes quite stabilized, despite the cut. There is often a layer (of thought) you cannot see. And a new dimension is realized. Something moving through.
I may be indirectly addressing the idea of loss. Which seem to me arises from the fear of having to let go. But I think I am focusing on the IT. Letting IT go. Letting go is something quite beautiful if we stop holding on to IT. The thing-ness. The thing needs to evolve. That is the natural order of how it becomes. Transformation, after all, moves all the way through us. It's not like...a new haircut.
I have not figured out the audio yet, but hey ho.
If you follow me on Instagram, there is a video of the cut.
After some technical advisement, the short version of the story,I did, indeed,lose the files on my hard drive. And the computer is non functional. So "things" fell apart. But I didn't. And I have kept my needles threaded. Just needing some time to gather some appropriate patches. Seems the older I get, the more pieces there are to work with. And ways to hold them together.
A bit like these tomatoes, that's how I feel.
The ones that struggle between seasons. Trying to hold on and let go at the same time. It's getting cold and I picked everything down below in the raised bed, so I can let go of the stress about critters and just let them roam and graze and ready themselves for winter. I will just watch. There is still stuff growing up on the deck planters.
Japanese Indigo setting seed. We'll make it they said.
I did some dyeing yesterday, but I'll save it. Trouble loading photos today so I will leave it for another day. It's crisp and clear and I will mend the sweaters. The moths have been busy.
Thank you for your warm Birthday wishes. It was a quiet day with a bit too much food.
And wine.
And a bit of mending in between.
An Oven Mitt Makeover...
Long time Travelling Companions.
Then a note to self, make yourself useful in some small way, each and every day.
Later...
An unmatched pairing.
Sometimes you think you are just over your head.
But then, when you stand back, put it in perspective, you realize it is just a frame of mind.
Feel Free went wacky again. Yesterday, later in the day.
A software update wiped out all my audio fixes and put the cute little audio player back but in the wrong places. I had a small meltdown. None of you have ever experienced those. (that might make an interesting audio)
The man says they are not pretty.
I made a late day post which expressed a bit of hopelessness. I deleted it.
I stayed up all night to patch it up. To prove myself wrong.
She patched another hole, and so it goes.
You make a promise, you do your best to keep it.
New content in Part 2/ Small Cloth. Rolling.
The Wedding Quilt (made before I was documenting such things) is wearing thin. It was a thin summer cloth to begin with. Only 2 layers, the patched top and a flannel sheet backing. No batting. It accepts mending so well.
The old Square Patch was almost worn Away.
The new Patch is a Circle.
Mismatched, Perhaps.
Useful though, then...Beautiful and Crazy wHole.
Puzzle Solved. Square Peg. Round hole. Yes we can.
A Harvest Moon Patch then. Because Time Passes. We learn. Reap what we sow.
Sew. Ha!
There were no heads on ye old key holder.
I'm not sure what happened to them. They rolled off somewhere.
Yesterday, The Man made two paper mache balls.
Moon heads. I said that. They need faces. He said that.
We took a selfie, printed it small and cut out the faces.
And here we are...
That was fun.
Looking for answers in a scrap basket...
(I love working on the floor. It reminds me of when I was smaller.)
And finding them!
Still some weaving into imagined.
If the path before you is clear,
you are probably on
someone else's.
-Carl Jung
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