Spirit Cloth

Not Counting Sheep

I've not been sleeping well.

Counting sheep is not working.

Ok, I thought, maybe counting something else.

When you are counting, trying to measure a lot of something that's already there, you might start anywhere, just going through them all.  

Last night I counted all the pages that need repair on the Feel Free site. There were 47. I tried to fix one, it took about an 1/2 hour.  Knowing me, I might get to 3 a day considering the current state of affairs. I estimated about 15 days.  So maybe 2 weeks. Not as long as initially imagined. So the site will reopen in 2 weeks. So I ask all you Patchwork in Perspective folks, either part 1 or part 2 or both, can you hang in there?  I am learning that I have bitten off more than I can chew with this website thing, but I am willing to get through this...and I think it will be OK. 

This counting did not help me sleep.

So I moved on to counting Cloth.  I tried to remember, one by one, all the cloths still here with me, the ones I never call finished. I fell into a deep sleep and here I am.  This one, above, the WIND Robe, was for convenience sake, #1.  It was on the wall, so I started there.  This process will bring me peace and has given me an idea for the Thought Catching segment, once I get back to it.  

And so... I woke up and hemmed the sleeves and bottom this morning. I will not pack this one, I will wear it to the new place. If we find one.

And as always, summer fades...

...whether I count days or not.

Shelters from the Storm

 

There are Nine robes here.

Some are heavy, warm, thick. Some are thin. Some are old, mended, some not that worn yet.

And then some are still only imagined.

This one is Wind. Hanging so I might look at it from behind. It is very unfinished. But really not. It's been useful ever since I caught the thought to make it. Complete at every moment since then. This one travels well, being light as a feather. I imagine adding a few more pockets. 

Imagine traveling with only what you might carry. Worrying about the rest when you get there. The Man is a master at that. Me, I'm working on it. Imagining is good practice. And always good for a few laughs. Laughing is also good practice.

So here we are. Imagining. Laughing. And later, walking. It's a beautiful day.

Continue.

OK.

Life goes on.

Time Flies.

Back to it.

The Endless Wishing Cloth (for now). It's on the table. But I'll put it back on the wall for a moment.

First let me take everything off the wall.

Clearing a space is a ceremony.

Still Cold

But warm.

Cloth is shelter.

Especially big cloth.

Last night I added Coma to the mix of blankets.

And sometime during the night...

I added Wind. It's a robe, but it can be a layer in a pinch.

I have too many robes. I am thinking of altering them in a way to make them convertible.

I always imagined showing my large cloths on Nine Beds. Calling the exhibition just that.

November wall

 

November. I always casually think of September and October as the big change months here.  Physically everything is becoming different.   But November.  November is when it really takes hold.  Inside.  Something  like a chill.  But really a pulling INward.  This November  it feels more obvious.   The movement.  The change in the dance.  The coma effect.

A glance  at the wall this morning.  I saw, without looking that the rain had gone.  But as the shadows danced I knew the wind was still here.  And I can hear the wind.  Big wind.   Pieces of trees free falling.  Pieces of me shifting.  Finding a more comfortable new arrangement.  So the wall looked like this.

But felt like this.

And this.

It is going to be that kind of day. Month. And then some. I am going to try  being  be a bit less present with social media and the blog and a bit more present with myself.  Undoing expansion.  Less, yet a deepening. So, then more.  Some shift, but a natural shift.  That fits with my own evolving natural sense of order.

I couldn't update my newsletter yesterday because this sense of season had not yet settled in.  Today then maybe. And I think it is time for a little patch of wind.  Or maybe a big one.

Today I really like this.

7:00 PMm. Cold. Almost a freeze. And a little wind.

Wind and Ice

This winter seems the coldest I remember, maybe because we chose to face the cold in a more head on way.  Knowing its presence with every choice made in a day.  These icicles on the roof actually changed direction in the wind. I like to look at them, trying to catch the slowness in that. Slow Flow. The sympathetic evolution of the form. Still icicle, but new.  And knowing  only for the moment...

There is a snow line that forms a horizon like ring around the Wind Robe.  I found it last year right around the time that mom became really ill. The icicles formed here and there.  I remember a lot of meltdown then as well.   I've been working to secure some of the meeting points near by.  Some left over wishing stars hold tender places. At least for now.  White can be cold and warm I think.  I am letting my mind wander today. Back and forth. 

House guests are gone. I am caught up in a week past filled with questions about people. How do they get all twisted up? And how nature's answer to that might simply be season.  How we might embrace the beauty in that.  It might soften hardened opinions and frozen hearts.

I look forward to this spring like no other.

This room we are heating seems much bigger today.

And we are three again. Just going.

 

Cold but Warm in February

The Bird robe and the robe called Wind work quite well together.  Warm as toast. One over the other.  Neither finished. And it matters not. The streaks in this photo come from the old mirror inside a closet door which always makes things seem a bit washed out and out of focus.   Life has been a bit like that these past days. There is about a foot of snow outside which has turned to solid ice. And a few too many folks in this one room we are heating. More snow tomorrow night.  I'll be back to regular blogging on Tuesday.  Have not been keeping up with my email,  thanks for your patience.

Story clothing

What we might  wear has so much to do with the weather.  And what's on hand. Who we are.

Partly Cloudy.  An early morning inspiration while testing the fermentation vat . Just right.

Partly Cloudy and a Slight Breeze.  This Breeze began during some musings on white over at at Diaries,  and will kick up again  during my first live gathering in the planning.  Weather can be unpredictable but a slight breeze is always welcome.

A  Slight Breeze  followed by a big  Wind.  Wind continues to develop, hoping though,  that we get through the next season  with out a hurricane this time.

I name everything. Yes, even my clothing.  Facilitates a long term relationship. 

Looking through Wind

 

 

The What-iffers and I , we have spent a bit of time slowly thinking about white, the sense of it, as light and  looking through.  Cloth as a dream state.   I am caught in  the thought  this morning that something as  invisible as wind has come to have a texture.  Still as light as a feather....

The Wind robe has been a curtain these last days,  but it is a Summer Robe and it might be time  to tie up some of the looser ends and prepare it for the garden strolls  that might happen if  the chill ever leaves this part of the woods.   This chill is lingering a bit too long.  Even the most practiced grow impatient.

inside (the) Wind (robe)

Tossed.  During the process of reinforcing.  I enjoy the truth in things like this.   She said to herself. 

And in this moment I also like the sense of order and change that  coexists.