handstories

binding it all in

    The quilting is done, and binding begun.  While working on it during choir rehearsal the other night, seat mates asked about it.  When describing how the cloth might be used by the children who work with Wendy, there was a quick thought of the cloth being a place to get lost in, but instantly I knew that was wrong.  

    What I hope, what I really want this cloth to do, is for it to be a place where children might catch glimpses of memories, of parts of themselves.  Parts that have been forgotten or lost along the way.  Pieces of themselves they didn't dare hold onto as they worked to survive their worlds.  Places that hold their dreams, wishes, wants, and hopes.

    That's probably a lot to expect from cloth and thread, but I'm holding on to my own wishes, wants and hopes.

immersing self

    The top of the cloth for Wendy's children feels done.  It was a surprise, I thought more would come, but there was a sense- a peaceful punctuation of a feeling.

    I've been in deep fondness with the backside- it's wildness and colors, and the cushy flannel.

    So, now to put a backing on it, another cloud filled piece of flannel, and quilted with a random rainbow of threads from the basket.

    Watching the shapes sink into the softness is comforting and warming.  I'm glad there's still more time to spend with this cloth.

    There are tumbling piles that need picked up, laundry, taxes, a bathroom that needs cleaned... Oh, well.

the heart can hold, or be, anything

    A full pink moon hearted butterfly for the "Child Cloth".  Jude made the moon, as well as the magic black and white thread outlining the wings that are scaled with Deb's rainbowed threads.  I see here that the antennae are missing.  They will weave into and tangle with the child's hair.  That will be good.

    This cloth is almost done, I can feel that.  I'm missing it already, but it has things to do.  I think I will need to always have a cloth going for Wendy's children, for me, as much as them.

she sang a song of birds and starlight

    Things I didn't imagine are happening with this piece.  

    I shared it with two new friends yesterday.

    That was not like me.

    I let a stranger have a quick glimpse of it today.

    Really not like me. 

    It is keeping me centered right now.

    It is so full of story.    

    I am in love with this cloth.

stars, sun & moon

    A couple of new spots on the "Child Cloth".  A boat filled with stars, with room for plenty more.

    A sun to keep Jude's star company, made from Deb's eclipse dyed cloth and threads.

home & sky

    A hilltop home and a tree have been added to the "Child Cloth".  I'm looking for ways to put personal symbols into this cloth.  Things that have given strength, hope and dreams.  I think I keep saying the same thoughts and wishes over and over about this piece.  Hopefully, that is weaving them deeply into it.

    The fires in Washington are growing.  Last night the moon was pink, and barely visible by the time I went to bed.  This morning there is an eerie yellow haze outside, and everything is covered in ash.  Sending thoughts to those in the midst of it all.

    Home, hill and tree are all from Deb's cloth and threads.

seeing through

    A rainbow path . . . traveling from the child's spirit . . .

    through heart . . . 

    to circle the moon, and back again.

    It's something about hoping and dreaming, and seeing and knowing a way through, and there's the holding of it all wrapped around the moon.

    Stitched first in seven solid threads in rainbow colors, then filled in with Deb's rainbowed threads.  A vibration of Self.

    It's been a quiet few days, for the most part.  Still slowly going through things, discovering the walls and floor in our bedroom that have been covered in boxes and piles for years.  Transition and lightening.

grounding

    A piece of smoky quartz, bought a few years back, a stone I'm drawn to.  Years ago, there were smoky quartz earrings that were worn non-stop, until one was lost in Venice.  This chunk sits on the window sill next to me, catching the light, or on hard days, in my pocket (It's not quite comfortable there, but its lumpy sharpness brings grounding thoughts to mind.).

    I worked on this for hours yesterday, and a couple this morning.  So much was done, but looking at the big picture it changes so slowly.  All kinds of things are seeming stuck, but I'm taking it as a sign that I need to be more still.

    The sea is finished.

    And the garden it waters is almost planted.  

shaping a sea

    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.

a story with a heart

    A cobbled heart from the smallest scraps in the thread basket for the "Child Cloth".  For being so small (about 1 1/2 in. wide), it took a lot of thread and stitching to secure.  A loose and fragile heart, but it's strong now.

    It started out mid-sky, traveled around, and finally landed in the center of the starburst, a wishing star of possibilities.  

    And then things started flowing faster than I could stitch, so I pinned all the thoughts into place...

     of seeing a way through on a path of dreaming, feelings, with the truth and sureness of the moon, and guiding stars,

    of a growing garden of blooms, birds in flight, and there's still some sea to come, I'm sure.

    There's a kind of circle in it all, that I can't quite put words to yet.

    It's feeling quite exciting!