It seems lavender and periwinkle have been catching my eye lately, or they have worked their way to the top of the cloth baskets. Either way, they are peaceful easy colors...
This handful of handstories will be going into the shop tomorrow (Friday).
Wishing you all a lavender weekend, oxo.
It started with a piece of cloth full of Shibori (Nui Shibori?), a gift from Jude. Each one is like a truffle. I just love them. When this golden centered one was placed on a piece of Tina's lavender cloth, it reminded me of the moon. There was some thinking about rectangle vs circle, and what if the moon was different than we know? Still not sure where this piece is going, the ideas keep coming, and changing.
Last night we watched a PBS show about the landing on the moon. And imagined what it must have felt like to see up close, step on, and know the moon? There was some sadness too, for the unknown being lost. It's not made of cheese, no one is living in it...
Something is lost with too much knowing.
These are quiet days. Blue and Moon are both usually working, or hanging out with friends. For me, there has been lots of time for stitching and catching up with friends, too.
Yesterday's walk was with an old friend I hadn't talked to in six months. We've known each other for almost twenty years, taught together, our boys went to school and played together when they were small. She's one of the smartest coolest people I know, almost always calm and takes things in stride.
As we rounded the park, I shared some of the experiences of the last months, trying to tone down my stories, so as not to seem too overly dramatic compared to her collected self. Surprisingly big bold expressions came out of her mouth! I loved every one of them, and was so grateful for the validation.
Sitting on a bench at the end, we went on about the now, and what's next for each of us. I went on about my studio, how it has changed things. "You've needed this for years," she said, and asked if I was finally going to let myself just be in this piece of time, without self-judgement and worry?
"I think so."
"I'm so happy for you."
"Me, too... Who am I?!?"
We laughed, and I felt warm from the inside out.
I like this scrap of cloth at the top of the photo very much (thank you, Jude). So, not ready for it to be gone...cloth inspired cloth. All day I stitched on it, almost non-stop.
It was great to work from start to finish in a day. There was wide open time because my foot needed resting. The evening before there was a misstep on our old deck- a quick turn, and then my foot went straight through an old board, with the rest of me crashing to the ground, curled up in a heap, crying, and cursing (which Moon says he's very sorry to have missed). Honestly, it was quite dramatic, I texted my sister afterwards. She said it sounded epic. We wondered who would play me in the movie? Good grief, I just don't bounce like I used to.
Ice, arnica and propping up made a difference. Still scraped and bruised, but the swelling is down, and it was a great excuse for spending the day mapping a sky.
These two, one of Jude's moons and a mountain shaped scrap, were at the top of the pile. Red is not a usual go-to, but I wanted to see if something could come of them. Deb's thread helped.
Thinking about what I have, how to work with that, how to think about things and approach them differently... in cloth, too. A story about transition, as I head into the last week of my school job.
I love this knothole, it can even wiggle within its space a little.
The silky moon, and much of the blue framing the view, came from the basket of Jude cloths... more things to be grateful for.
It was a lovely afternoon stitching at my table with the window above wide open to the trees out back. Two crows were gathering for a nest, woodpecker, jay and chickadees were spotted (and listened to), there was a rabbit in the yard for the first time, and now and then a soft breeze carried in the sweetness of the neighbor's wisteria...
New stories in the shop... Take a gander here.
Many thanks to Deb Lacativa, Tina, and Jude for their talents and sharing of cloth and thread.
It's been a weekend of stitching. I was going to say there are no stories to share, but here they are... Stories of storms.
And moons. One of them over a sea of scraps...
There has been talk and plans of my claiming a bedroom for a studio for years now, once one of the boys moved out.
A couple of weeks ago, I said I didn't want to wait, and maybe it could happen in the fall, when Blue goes off for his senior year of college?
Last night, I cracked, and announced that it couldn't wait, I need a space of my own now. It's going to inconvenience everyone, but there is hope it will bring some calm, too, at least for me.
We have spent the afternoon shuffling beds and such. It's like one of those hand held plastic puzzles, with squares that slide into a picture. It takes three moves to get the piece you want into the corner. There are mattresses and bed frames in the kitchen, dining, and front rooms. (What's harder than putting together a piece of Ikea furniture? Taking one apart.)
Right now, I'm waiting for the mopped half of the room to dry before the next maneuver.
Things are their usual end of the school year busy.
In spite of the supposed-to, should, could, meant-to-do's...I started this.
I'm not sure it will work, but it's worth a try.
Five weeks until school's out . . .
(The hill and a the thread of few trees were dyed by Deb, and that blue printed wave up top is by Blandina.)
For the last couple of days, this. Squares into pairs.
Pairs into quartets- square and rectangular.
Late into last night, and up before the light this morning. Wanting it to be together. Using the scraps of leftover thread in the tangled basket. Knowing the stitching isn't very tiday or careful, but just needing it to hold together, that will be enough. Life is like that sometimes.
While working this morning, there was a thirty-year-old memory of a young adult novel about a girl named Nell...
Pressured to marry by her family, reluctantly she began a wedding quilt. At first it was beautiful. A crazy-quilt? She began embroidering it, flowers gave way for beetles and spiders, dark lurking things, as she stopped eating and sank into depression. After the last stitches, she took the whole thing and dropped it into a vat of black dye. At the end, Nell was in bed, under the heavy shadow of a blanket, fading into nothingness, and on the last page, she made a decision to get up and go on...
It's long, because I am, and I want to be able to wrap my feet up in it. Narrow, because I wanted to make 3-inch squares, and have it be thirteen wide. Hmmm... There are some things to figure out- widening it with borders, the binding... I'm not quite sure what's next? But it won't be a black dye pot.
