got to work on the midwinter cloth some more today, in between and after the many errands and preparatory chores that had to be accomplished before closing my eyes. who knew there was so much to do to get ready to journey to boise to spend the holidays with my parents for the first time in nine years? amidst all this frenetic activity, my mind turned to a quieter scene... my morning meditation practice is one way i find peace in the middle of all this chaos. a deep, enduring peace that i take with me into the journeys and interactions of the ensuing day.
as i gazed at the midwinter cloth, it seemed that a moon was required in the night sky. upon reflection, i realized this was a gratitude moon...in particular, in gratitude to
jude hill for being the first to introduce me to this particular forest of ideas and in memory of all the beautiful and blessing moons that grace her cloths. it will still need an echo of radiating kantha stitches to give it depth and presence.
next, a tree began to grow somewhere in the snowbanks. it is still growing and whispers of many more branches and a more textured trunk...but the promise of what is to come is already chanting quietly across the snowscape.
the roots have decided that they are not going to hide beneath the snow (though they are not yet couched down) and the sky is already asking for french knot snowflakes. there is still a lot of kantha stitching to be done in the background as well... and i can hear the quiet chant of something not yet known that promises to put in an appearance before the midwinter cloth is complete. it seems, too, that the frays of laundry resultant tangles on some of the blues have need of some stitching, too, though they have yet to speak up and tell me in what fashion they want to make their mark...
but for the moment, this cloth is going to sleep for a bit...as i am in need of the warmth of bedquilts, the purring neckwarmer that is cat, and the gentle tug and kick of the saint lost in puppy dreams at the foot of the bed...
namaste'
oh wow... that tree, so beautiful and dark. those roots... i think you've inspired me to give something like this tree a try.
ReplyDeletein your other posts you were worrying about being similar? but i think working in this fashion it comes from somewhere deeper... no matter if you start from inspiration, it's just a spark. and your inner worlds will make an appearance regardless of what your intentions are. i start out with one thing in mind and the cloth has a mind of it's own of what it's going to be anyway. i've almost always been surprised! hahahahahaha :)
much peace!
yes twhich... i agree... i start and before you know it the cloth takes its own path and tells its own story... i think the cloth lives partly in my soul. and the quiet meditation helps know what its trying to say.
ReplyDeleteWhat a nice rooty wintry tree! I hope your holiday trip goes well. Will the saint go with you?
ReplyDeleteyes, suzanna, the saint will be sitting next to me in the truck. i wouldn't dream of leaving her behind! cat, however, is staying home to guard the hearthfires and keep the bed warm until we return...
ReplyDeleteYour winter scene is growing in complexity... even in it's wonderful simplicity! I find that my intention of following what Jude is showing us has ended up with my own twist on her examples somehow. I'm beginning to see my style, whatever that is, emerging to co-mingle with hers. It's okay though. I'm learning my own song to sing by following hers.
ReplyDelete;~) Debi
thank you, debi. of course, when you paint with a brush, your strokes are influenced by the brush...your image is influenced the the canvas and the pigments. all things are dependent upon other things for their very existence. it's part of what makes us all one!
ReplyDelete