Maybe he knows. Where he is. About place.
He sits in the ring of vision I call the serpent of days (never completed) on the Magic Cloth. As if it is a basket. Over and over. As if it holds him.
I just completed the border stitching on Alphabet Soup and now I will complete the unfinished letter/picture blocks. All the while I will consider how to begin moving a lot of my old Diary Series posts to this place. They are floating out there somewhere and I do want to hold on to them. At least a little while longer.
I made a note to myself that this cloth, the Magic Cloth is based on clothweaving. And it has passed the test of time. It takes a long time to know. This makes me very happy. I can continue knowing that.
It is very cold. I did not tidy the garden. I left the little places that hold tiny beings.
I call my son on Sundays. Today I will probably ask him, "Is it cold enough for you?"
Because I have become my mother.
It’s been over 50 years that my mom passed away. She introduced me to sewing, both by machine and hand. It wasn’t until I really took up hand stitching again that I realized how truly talented she was and what a gift she had given me. There are very few people left who knew her well enough to make any comparison between who she was and who I am – but I hope I have a bit of her talent, wish I had more of her patience and work to have kind heart.
This is a very sweet story.
Cats are expert in the art of placement.
Sooner or later we all become our mothers. I now consider it a blessing instead of a curse.
I think we get it now.
I am surprised at how frequently my mother seems to speak with my mouth. Especially the phrases I swore I would never say.
We, too, are leaving all those little piles and tangles of dried shrubbery in which small creatures may over-winter. My father would probably shudder at the “clutter” as his garden beds were always neat as a pin. No leaf left to moulder there where it might look to others like he didn’t care. But times change, or maybe it’s that cycles repeat. Whichever it is, I like that we are being encouraged to provide shelter for small things.
we learn, thankfully.
Oh yes ! I love an untidy garden that provides for critters and small beasties with food and shelter. And the cloth weaving is the method for my first cloth, as I make blocks to be combined later .. any advice on the weaving method, now that you’ve seen the time pass through it ?
Love.
I guess I will revisit the whole process very soon.
Soul-o’s owned-up basket of self
(it’s cold here too : our Ginkgo lost its golden leaves in one night !)
Very sudden cold here too, wow!
Love your quilts Jude 🤗
😁
I am now nearly 8 years older than my mother when she died…she was joyful and gentle…something I continue trying to emulate.
We leave the garden for our little wild friends here too. I love to watch them forage and find shelter.
I hope your diaries move seamlessly 🙂
Oh Soul-O 💙
The piece of denim cloth weaving I made and used as a large patch on my favourite jeans are standing the test of time and wear and many, many washes.
“is” standing the test of time!
yes, my woven patched jeans have lasted the longest.
I love that the cloth weaving creates two layers but is still flexible.
I have farm friends who tidy up the yards, gardens, they say less work in the spring, I think it has mire to do with being judged as a lazy farmer. I tell them I love leaving it as protection.. for critters, perennials, and most of all as snow sculptures!
They say if you draw a circle on the floor a cat will curl up in it. I think Soul-O is all knowing and feels the comfort you stitch into cloth!
He always finds the circles.
We are used to manicured land.
I got used to this.
I come here at times because I am nosey at others because I need encouragement, inspiration, aspiration, words of wisdom I generally find some consolation and peace too. Today I looked here and found just what I needed, My Mum passed away just four weeks ago today , I am glad to see her when I look into the mirror…..I found consolation and peace today
thank you all….
It is hard to lose a Mom.
After all that is how we got here, no matter what the story.
Love to you.
Sweet Soul-o, knows much, like where to sit! I am in many ways like my mother, in others, I can only wish. But, like Deb, sometimes I catch a glance in the mirror and am pleasantly surprised, or use a phrase or an interest that would have been hers too. The best is when J. says I sound like her when I’m singing! Highest compliment 🙂
May the stitching continue (I wove myself into a lot of trigger thumb pain yesterday. Boo), may the tech life come with ease, may the animals live in harmony. xo
Joy was her greatest gift.
(((Solo))) is such a cool cat!
good company
No idea why my last comment showed up where it did…..
No biggie.🙂
I looked in the mirror yesterday and for some reason really caught how I resemble my mother…it made me smile.
Place is very much on my mind, I looked up the definition yesterday after it came up in a podcast I was listening to.
We do become our mothers don’t we!
Things could be worse 😏
ha, yes, I suppose we notice things as we come to understand them
So much beauty. Thanks so much.
😎
I did a double take when I saw the reflection of Soul-O’s eye in the cloth … but then again, cloth does reflect us in its own way, right?
I do like the look and feel of raw edges on cloth weaving … but I have to admit that I tend to turn edges, as the things I make usually get used (and therefore laundered) quite a bit … and linen, which is my fiber of choice, ravels like the dickens (something my mom would have said)
hope you are able to move the diaries without too much tinkering … speaking as one who wasn’t here back then, it would be grand to have you introduce us to some of your favorite posts
yeah, it is a waste just sitting there.
the raw edges wear well if quilted and well, weaving is my direction forward so much much more about that.
“I have become my mother”. Why is it that this phrase almost always comes out with a negative connotation? Or is that just my evaluation? Lots of mothers are to be admired and used as models for our own mothering.
Not negative at all, it is my favorite thing to do, continue her concern…
She lived a long time, I hope I might become more of her. my mother embodied joy.
Am I seeing things, or are his eyes reflected in the black cloth before him?
The folded under or folded on top and stitching embracing all … just the thing to gaze upon on a chilly Sunday morning.
I noticed that eye thing too…
If someone says, “You are your mother!” I respond, “thank you!” For it is a great compliment.
Thank you for not tidying your Garden, Jude…if only more people understood about the tiny beings that winter there…
I would like to sit in that circle with him! In the sea of blue, like a safe boat…
And no tidying the garden here either. Happy, cozy winter dear critters and i am garden exhausted at this point anyway. Come spring i love the clean up.
No idea why my comment showed up here…..
yeah, I love the spring uncoverings
once you get used to it, it so much more beautiful