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.

regeneration

Cut, wait and see.

Yesterday rain all day. I sat and stitched for hours. My back hurts, I am achy and tired. This is the new turn of events, how funny, now these days, moving makes me feel so much better. Maybe I should build something else instead of cloths. Everything is patchwork, in perspective.

before coffee

Look

Look he seemed to say...

The big cold wind erased all traces of Autumn.

Everything seems to rest comfortably...

...In this cloth I call The Nest of Days. It is a basket.

With thoughts (often questions) now, of revisiting Magic Diaries , here, openly (one of my older online making series), I am somehow revisiting an older self. Wondering if I can, will it make me feel sad?  Will it make me feel a longing for simpler times? Or is it the same and only a mindset? A frame of mind. 

It is really cold outside. Really and metaphorically speaking. But some Inner Warmth remains and I am reassured.  Like leaves, some things just need to fall away. 

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.  

Again

Yesterday, after an all night rain.

He is growing up. Big and strong and almost friendly. 

Now it is raining, again, like I have never seen. Expected to continue until tomorrow morning. 

We need not more rain. Maybe if the porch roof falls in, we will save some money on demolition. 

An old dream that was in need of some seasonal adjustment. A scrap of cloth used in The Deep Pool of Thought on the lower left corner. Almost like a question, will snow come early this year?

And this one.

I love it just because it has no real agenda. I just enjoyed it. Has a circus feel, doesn't it? I added scraps of self as they appeared. The curved cloth weaving, I like it and might try something larger with this concept. And the sun will come out eventually, though the garden is taking a beating. There will be work to do and that is how, why, we keep going. 

It needs fringe.  I'm running low and will have to make some soon. 

I lost this post twice already, let's try again...

What is Just Going?

 

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. 

shifting perspective

Also I am thinking about tree forms.

Un Doing

A little blurry, but that's the truth.

Clearing seems liquid is what struck me here as read back over it.   Flow.

And then I thought, what is a page in perspective...?

Form is temporary.

Cold and Going

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.