wintry break of day

the rising sun attempted to penetrate my frosted windows early this morning. peeking through my slitted lids to gently coax me awake. softly calling me to witness its autumnal splendor. sadly for the sun, my warm and comforting quilts won out. this glimpse was all i was to see as i rolled over and snuggled closer to the sleeping saint.

after a time, when sleep and the laziness of a morning off left me, i bundled myself into some warm clothes and went for a morning walk to allow the splendor of this fall morning to seep into my bones. yesterday's snows had melted, leaving behind puddles dotted with this morning's random rain drops. i left the saint at home, much to her disappointment. but the memory of her twitching with doggy dreams, nestled amongst warm quilts was much more inviting that the thought of her attempting to reclaim that comfortable spot covered in mud and leaves.

today will be a great day to sit by the fire and stitch...

namaste'

deeper roots

"storms make trees

take deeper roots."

-dolly parton

it is difficult to fathom this early morning tantrum in the sky as yesterday it was warm and toasty in the 80's. now it is a chilling 32 degrees and the big sky above has filled with ominous clouds and tempestuous winds. some are saying we may even get a couple inches of snow by nightfall...

for myself, i am going to climb into my warm and inviting bed. curl up with the saint and snuggle into the side of the cat and court a dream or two. who knows what i will awaken to? it won't really matter. i will have taken deeper roots of my own in sleep and rise well-rested and ready to listen to whatever whispers there may be in the dark.

good night...

namaste'

on painted wing

i needed to drink in some color before diving into the growing pile of darkly hued salvage for the new story cloth, box of darkness. to quench that thirst, i pulled out this little creature that began to emerge back here out of some lovely gifted cloth hand-dyed by deb. i had originally inked in a few wispy lines to suggest a wing on the left side. she whispered. i listened and painted in a set of "proper" wings. then stitched and knotted. satisfied whispers ensued. there is much to unfold and manifest before the whispers will soften and begin revealing their stories...but we are both content with this new development for the moment.

namaste'

silent sunday - 9/30/12

the uses of sorrow

-mary oliver

from her book, thirst, beacon press, boston, 2006

mary oliver is one of my favorite contemporary poets. i received a copy of her book, thirst, in the mail today from a dear friend and spent a few hours browsing its pages under the trees down by the river with sachi dozing at my feet. i found this short poem to be quite deep in meaning. it overwhelmed me and i sat there in the shade as tears ran down my cheeks. not tears of sadness. nor of joy. but...of release. suddenly, so much made sense and was at peace...

i believe there is a story cloth in this poem. i shall have to listen to the whispers and see what emerges...

namaste'

be yourself

just a little reminder...

namaste'

stitching myself into a new perspective

i don't know that i can explain why i haven't been able to stitch lately, but it feels amazing to be needle chanting once again!  the background seemed to come together effortlessly. the salvaged linen moon (from an old resort shirt found hiding in the back recesses of my closet...unworn for many years) laid down as though it was meant to be there. usually there is a struggle, punctuated with sailor-speak, to get linen to lay down without endless distortions.

wanting a clean slate upon which to work the rabbit dancer, i decided to redraft her onto some plain white cotton. she is temporarily tacked down, ready to be needle-turned and then built upon with scrap and stitch. there is such energy in this cloth that i am feeling quite invigorated by it! but what is so different now?

it could be that i am reconnecting with a theme that always seems to predominate in my art. form. the body. and its endless variations. in this case, an anthropomorphic dancer. as i look back at the various bodies of my work, i am confronted time and again with this filter. i see it in my sculpture. find it repeatedly in my batik experiments. it appears throughout my sketch books. even in cloth, the human form is found again and again in various guises. i think i shall have to contemplate this... watch where it goes. how it continues to manifest. perhaps this is my filter. the bones upon which hang the flesh of my creativity...

meanwhile, i am delighting in putting needle to cloth once again!

namaste'

silent sunday - 9/23/12

snip, snip, snip

these past couple of days have been filled with snipping and ripping. now it's time to start stitching...

namaste'