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I am adding new content and redocumenting all of it here in more detail as a learning tool under the category Cloth Stories. This is also part of the purge of cloth here, a lot of which will end up in the Threadcrumbs shop eventually.
The shops are closed for a while.
The holiday rush is not my cup of tea.
I may let a few things go here on the blog for now.
I've collaged a few of my dyed patchwork components. And tacked it next to something similar that was pieced. Seamed. I like when there is more than one way to consider. I like to lokk at that. No matter how hard I might try I can never do anything more than once. The same way. Actually I don't really try to do that. I do like to create settings. It's a kind of PlaceKeeping. Bases for going through. I feel beasts arriving.
I just noticed the sharp pain is gone. I now hold a dull ache in the background.
Blue is a color. Blue is a feeling. I wonder how that came to be.
But really he sits with all of it. It's like a ceremony. He sits. And then he moves on. Sometimes seemingly for no reason. But I think I am just not getting it.
I am recovering from a small oral surgery yesterday. There is pain. I am not taking the pain medicine. I do that sometimes. Sit with it. If I can. I find it most enlightening. I have on occasion, been able to distance myself from it. Separate me and the pain. See them separately. It helps me understand the nature of it. Me.
I might not get to the post office today. In which case it will, most probably, be tomorrow.
It is going like this. (continued from yesterday.)
I liked the cutting through. The star windows. I mended the idea of one. I made 4.
Like secrets revealed.
Wishing to some is silly. You may say I'm a dreamer... But for me it is just an opportunity to pause and imagine how it might go. That's all. I don't really expect to get anything from it. Except maybe new eyes.
I ran into the edge on one side. I used what I cut off and butted it against one of the spinning planes. It might be appearing or disappearing. I really like these parts of seeing. In between this and that.
Still working to get the original SunMoonStars class released at Feel Free. Fiddling.
My sadness has turned into curiosity. More questions that answers.
I am not ready for anymore conversation about any of it. Unspoken notes to self is all that remains for now.
The recently harvested indigo with seeds dried quickly. I hung three bundles from the ceiling beams in the studio. The wood stove has been cranked up for a few days. I'm tidying up because most of my time will be spent in the main part of the house soon. The studio will be heated less often as winter moves in. Probably, we'll see.
There will be company today so I am using some quiet time to separate seeds and leaves from the stems which will go in the compost. I love the blueish cast of the dried leaves.
There are still 2 pots brewing on the stove. One pomegranate. One black walnut. I will try to get some cloth dyed while the stove is fired up. I love the colors, the yellow earth colors that come from pom and walnut and copper pots. But more than color, I have begun working more with the reaction of tannin and metals. These pots are tannin soup.
Here, more deliberately with sun in mind. Old linen soaked in pom overnight, a tin can left to rest. I've done these rings before. But what if this time, I leave the the cloth dripping wet ? Allow the migration of the black marks. It radiates outward and feels good. I love how the form emerged from a simple change in process. Maybe many of these today. They make themselves really.
Reconsidering Spaced out as a base for space then.
Working with one of those dyed bases here. And the nine from here. For now. Thinking about creating a pieced version of this base idea as well. And then maybe some other ways, there might be so many. I like this version of space. Divided by what is, a sense of order floating in it. Instead of harem cloth I used a small cotton print behind the thin dyed cloth. For the stabilizing layer. I like starry effect, blurred, like in a fog. There are many ways to play with this format. There is the center, the sense of windows, the spaces in between. Connecting the squares like dots, horizontally, vertically. All ways like a star. Well, shall we?
Note to self: A base, the field of space we choose to work within gives context to the story unfolding. Or sometimes the context can be the whole story. A not so blank slate. A welcome mat. Oh ha. I'm back!