6 - Something Bigger

On this day

August 24th 2011

One little thing can bring focus to chaos. Bring the present into the past or the other way around. Making things whole. Connecting the dots has more than one dimension. This is what  I was feeling on this morning.

A stack

Next to me, a stack of  107 feathers, amazing really. Many asked to contribute,  so I continued  collecting feathers through the end of the year, with more than one project in mind.   I had enough now to start thinking about how I might put them together..

And by September....

A lot of feathers


7 - Tell the Children the Truth

On this day

September 10th 2011

Happy

 

I was imagining children. Happy somehow. Outside in the open air. Perhaps dancing. And a feather that could see them there. As it floated by. And hovered.  And seemed to be transforming.  And there was a rainbow which was formed simply from colored thread. Woven together.  And there was a sense of safety in that.

 

And then there was music.

Music in the air

Order

A sense of order...

Dancing

And dancing (but no dance contest).

I began thinking a lot about telling the children the truth as a form of comfort. Instead of the common practice of hiding it.


8 - Feather Collecting

So they gathered through the end of 2011.  The time passed with just the gathering.

And I put together a Flicker show to show them off.

On this day

January 1st 2012. 

Happy New Year.

   

There is now a link to the Flickr group up top. Each photo can be viewed separately and has a link to the page that  give information about the maker .  There were so many, the slide show  became an epic length.  You might browse either way.

There are also links to how the Feathers Flew in .  In the side bar by month.  Each photo can be clicked to enlarge.  Press the back button to close the large page and return to the collections.

A big thank you to all the PieceMakers.


9 - The Looking Ceremony

On this day

January 27th 2012

A looking ceremony. There would end up being a lot of looking during this project.  Maybe I was a bit overwhelmed at this point.  So Many. How could I do this?

Begin by looking

The golden ones

And on Feb 4, still looking. Still asking the same question.

 

alternative audio link

I loved how the imagination of others was beginning to gather as well.  What could these feathers become? There was a feeling of sitting around a campfire sharing stories.  Taking turns growing into that.  Srory teller

I gathered great insight into the hearts of others I have never met. By imagining that.

What would this become?

 Mom.  She always said  "...it'll come to you."

I waited.


10 - Grounding the Rings

February 4th 2102

This day

Magic on the ground

Today I am thinking about the beginnings of the Magic Feather Cloth. Cloths. I have looked at all the feathers. Now I look at what I have done this year. Finished and unfinished and I am focused on the ring. The circle. The nest. The safety in round.  So the Circle it is. At least in this, the year of the Ring

I had all my big cloths on the floor today.  Considered it the Grounding of the Rings. The sleeping loft is over an unheated room. The floor is cold in the winter months. I layer cloths one on top of the other. Walk barefoot. Feel the cloth under my feet.  When the quilts are rugs. I call them Quugs. I like that word. It seems ancient. QU-UG.

And so I have started to what-if. What if the first magic feather cloth could be a floor cloth. Something to sit on to walk on. To play on?  Curl up on? A magic carpet?   What if a big cloth could be a giant sand tray? A healing game. Big enough to be in?  Here we go.

Comforted on cloth

Since I have been piling the cloths on the floor, she (WAS) sleeps there. Often gathering the cloth into a ring around her.  She is a good assistant. She was homeless and hurting  somehow. I don't know everything about her, but I can tell when she feels safe. She helps me understand cloth as place.

Later, this would all be so right

Remembering back, I should have known...

Self-portrait-in-the-studio1

 One of my first self portraits with cloth.  The scrap nest.