Going might transform this cabin thing. As a less obvious cabin. As a more obvious holding. A frame. And just a path to building something. indigo magic Indigo is magic. practice What if inbetween is more important than we think? What’s the rush? A More Ancient Light. That’s what came to mind. (I whisper a lot in the morning, the Man here sleeps in, perhaps that is how cloth whispering evolved, ha!)
Yesterday. I thought about season. How much Joy there really is in it for me. Here, the blues that have nothing to do with sad. Dyeing, for me, is always a question. I haven’t really spent time enough to say I know. But then time flies and knowing by going fills you with at least the story of how it goes. Mostly silk this time, and still many colors. This morning, again. And Wordpress will not display my video […]
The ties, from the tarps over the round woodpiles last season. The tarps were too big, so we gathered them up at the top, secured the gathers with some indigo scrap. Sun shibori I have called it. There is more to say, but the man is not well today so I am just showing. Washed and ironed, some too brittle to sew, but so beautifully weathered.