it goes without saying

Story

I am time, the Poetry of Process
Don't judge me, I am in-between.

 

And then it seems to say

Don't Judge Me.

I don't know why those words rose up.

But I feel better having said them, even though it seems the cloth said them.  I am certain that my mind created a way for that to happen.   The mind creates the world we live in.  And that is so amazing to me.

Imagine the complexity of that.  How many worlds there must be.  And now having said that, how simple certain things become.  How she became a cobblecloth,  how many ways of holding were necessary.

I love the natural order of the cabin block at her center.  How it anchors the chaos of her reaching.

So time out for story today.

The Nest of Days quilt  creates such a great looking window.  I have pinned most everything there over time,  for looking in the context of  Nest. Basket.

This allows me to see how one thing leans into another, even though they often span years in the making.  They become a continuous story, never finished. Which makes time, as well as the individual thing, irrelevant . Going is timeless, I whisper to myself every time..

Only stopping defines it.

 

all one thing, it goes without saying , mostly...

The Nest of Days provided a safe place for her to just say and dance into the next season, free to dream of the beauty of being carried by something so ancient and timeless. (Just me playing with moments)

I just ran across this post about story from last years Forever Zone posts... I was talking...

I listened again.  I always wonder if I have said stuff before, there are so many ways to try to say the same thing.

And of course, she is I am not done.

by on
Categories: Nest of Days, Stray Selves SeriesTags: ,
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60 comments

  1. Pingback: Doodling – Airy Nothing

  2. Thank you! I’m catching up slowly, taking in everything (posts and comments). This was so very helpful. I have long been confused by the use of the word story. For me story was always words: character, plot, climax, & ‘the end’. How do I put all that into thread and cloth (or paint and paper, or anything other than words)? I always felt lost.
    I remember reading that post last March and still not getting it, but today, with your last couple of posts (and really, the cumulation of all your posts and talking), it’s cracking open for me. I begin to see a glimmer of light, understanding is dawning.
    I’m so glad I didn’t whiz through just to catch up. I would have missed so much!
    I really like the Tree Woman. She makes me think about my doodles. I might be able to stitch them in a way that speaks to me as yours do to you. I don’t know. We’ll see.

    • Hmm… an edit ability would be nice. I noticed as I clicked “post comment,” too late to change, that the email on the above comment was wrong. It’s correct here.

  3. I feel this. So many of my ‘friends’ in my quilts are tree- related. It is a comfort, bringing the souls of the forest into something tangible; to represent what gives me (us?) so much peace and stability.

  4. Stephanie

    She is splendid! Thank you so much for all you share; it has meant a great deal to me in my hesitant efforts to have a creative life.

  5. deemallon

    Love her to bits. I heard: “Don’t judge me. I’m busy growing!” All those branches/arms reaching beyond the stable/rectangular center.

  6. Susan Crowley

    When I was painting a lot, I had a fascination with lines. I used to wonder what it would look like if I could see the imaginary line my hands made through space from the time I was born until the present moment. Such a big canvas I would need! Nowadays, my line has become a stitch.

  7. hermosa

    She, the Poetry of Process, is breath taking.
    I see how repetition of a theme provides the freedom for small and interesting tweaks and occasional break throughs. I recognize her but she is one of a kind. She is the poetry of process.

  8. sharon

    a feast for the eyes ‘n ears of the heart. a never ending story. the loving interaction between the selves. soooooo healing and freeeeeeeeeing…

  9. Amy

    I love the piece. Now that the log cabin square is placed, the heart with the birds is such a perfect expression of what joy feels like–birds flying out of your chest. Although also finding it interesting that without a mouth I can’t quite gauge what she is feeling. The clues we rely on to “know” what is going on. Thanks for the story, Jude.

  10. Vi

    …a disturbing week but as the dust settles today..i once again (over a few cups of coffee:).)..read and slowly take in the sights and sounds of a week of posts from you … as I look at the stories you have unravelled ….just so wonderful.
    I have much to say maybe..but instead, a sip of coffee and as I read and hear all you have to say and share….some of my own stories grow distant and change….
    Thank you.

    • jude

      we are all story. we are all creative. but we are indeed lucky if we have the time to consider it. An artist is privileged in that regard.

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