The water on the "Child Cloth" is being built backwards, starting with the piece outlined in darker blue in the center, then the strip in front, adding behind both of them to the right, and finally to the left, all in the wrong order, requiring un-stitching, fiddling and shoving in with a needle. Can't even tell you what happened or why. It's just how it went, going forward seemed easier than backing up. I could be at this for a long while. Fortunately, it's all old silk and able to stretch and twist.
There is a lot going on, much I mean to share, but the tired self is winning. The last couple of days have been packed- a workshop (with a room of artists committed to making a difference with children, led by this amazing man), writing and painting classes, and I even dragged myself to swim class last night. The nights are full, too, of nightmares. Stories of misunderstandings, lost suitcases when my plane is about to board, and many many murderers to maneuver carefully around, all churning through my head every night for the last month or so. I wake up exhausted with a pounding heart. I have no idea what it's all about, hopefully, it will work itself through and out soon.
Thinking of how Wendy welcomes each child into her therapy studio, the washing of their feet and the entering. Listening to her describe it all is like a flowing poem.
