The change of season has revealed the small basket feeder I hung on the fence in early spring. I forgot it was there. The summer growth had woven another basket around it. It became a nest. It's the time of year for seeing through.
I remind myself that design is a kind of mending.
This cloth, The Mother-Ring, is so thin, unstable, worn, stained, reworked, holding but useful maybe only for looking. I made some changes. Folded the edge in to hug it, loosely, wove into a corner, stitched a lot of little stitches. Reversed the openness of the Moon, making the sense of time more expansive..
It feels a bit like letting go and holding at the same time.
Today I am the thinness.