On Sunday there was an urge to do something different.
There was love for the rhythm of it, the forgiveness in it, and even for the need of fixing it here and there (and more for the fact that it could be mended).
A few other scraps and threads were woven in. All the while thinking about story weaving, bringing slivers of tales together...a pink silky ribbon from the Edwardian gown, indigo thread from Jude, a short length of yarn from a long-ago spinning, and a small fluff of tulle that also danced at the ball.
The places intertwined with the darker paper... those were penned with John O'Donohue's blessing of a poem, "Beannacht" and painted with prussian, indigo and lunar blue.
"...May a flock of colours,
Indigo, red, green,
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight...."
(Excerpt from "Beannacht")
So, here it is, with some weaving of ends still to do, and awaiting what's next for it, but for now, it's a story all on it's own. And the more I look at it and think about it, the more I realize that it's not that different from, and maybe just the same as, one of my little stitched boat cloths.
Ha, the urge for new led me right back home.