Spirit Cloth

Path Way

We are in the middle of a new storm. Still dark here and I don't even want to imagine the snow and rain mix. The yuckiest kind of weather to try to get around in. So I am not going anywhere.

I took this picture  Yesterday. That's a new path winding through the woods. Won't be visible when winter is over.

When we moved here, I brought my attitude with me. My neighbors (the couple is about my son's age) live right on the road below us. About 1/2 acre, 2 teenagers, and an ATV.  Not long after being here, I noticed them walking through "my yard". The 5 acres between them and the next neighborhood over. I kindly let them know how I felt about that. Everyday the youngest kid, 11, rides his ATV in circles around their house . For hours. While I think to myself, I hate those things.

Right after the holidays, while retrieving the mail at the bottom of the hill. I saw them on their deck. I called out. We talked from our own sides over a stone wall.  It was a long talk. Too long for here, I cannot type that much.

I asked about things. I learned about them. The things we have in common and the things we don't. I suddenly said...something I never would have said before... "what if Nicholas could use his ATV to make a path? I said maybe we could all walk through the woods more easily. Maybe he could use the path once in a while to ride through to see his friends over the hill.  Faces lit up. She asked if I wanted to know more about the hiking trails just beyond the hill.

The culture is different here. But people are people. If you try to understand.

I let a lot of things go with the turn of the year. I think that might become more apparent.

So many works I create are about path. Maybe they all are.

 

before coffee

Winter's Sun

Yesterday. There she was.

The pond with no name. Miss Pond I have been calling her. I don't know her well enough yet. We can only see her when the leaves have fallen and the light reflects in the morning.

What is it about Winter's light?

There was a lot of considering.

Yesterday's self developed In Sympathy with a Winter's Sun. Thinking, the triangle at the bottom...a mountain...might be a new symbol. The mountain...as a challenge. She rises above it like a winter's sun rises above a cold hard truth. And these, the thoughts today, of vibrating outward, being a source of warmth, which in itself might encourage growth, growth itself being a form of the same, reaching out, and then, how enlightenment grows from darkness, and how you can never have too many eyes. Suddenly the mountain here became a kind of negative space, like poof, it's not a mountain at all and there are new eyes and suddenly she can see she has simply grown sky legs. Did the Winter Sun just whisper, yes, be lighter?

She is not done.

There were family gatherings but we were not part of them. I had thought of Pizza but there was light fasting and gratefulness and a bit of winter garden prep, a roaring fire and good sleep. 

Today it is raining, soon to turn bitterly cold with a chance of snow. I hope so. Winter Sun on snow brings great light-ness.

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.  

Let It Be Thin

Everything Is So Fragile.

I named this that. Awhile back.

Form is temporary...

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