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i spent a little time today with paper and cloth. brainstorming. just a little, in lieu of the promised rainstorms that were not forthcoming.
i found myself wondering if i enjoy the brainstorming as much as the stitching because i also enjoy the feel and sound of old paper beneath my pens and pencils. like the salvaged fabric i use in making my cloth, there is something special about old, yellowed paper salvaged from the linings of old books, ledgers and other discarded or overlooked folios. the marks made in ink and graphite in attempt to capture fleeting thoughts and ideas seem at home with the ghosts of other fingers...scribblings, stampings, and old typefaces. torn edges echo the frayed edges of their fabric counterparts. each a continuing of the other. both being steps in the continuing of mind and thought.
it feels like there is an allegory in there somewhere...
now it is time to start getting it down in cloth and thread. a little late-night needle chanting, i think.