I am happy to see so many bees. I look forward to next year’s garden now that I am a bit more familiar with what will grow here. Rain barrels are the next project. And maybe an ark… just sayin’… The red line is drawn. Stitched. Pressed into the cloth, It seems the beginning of a basket. I sense so many here already. And the line came through. I had spread it on the floor, to look. Covered in cat […]
Humid, way hot, yet turning. The light begins to seep through the tired foliage. We are opening to autumn. I am back to the circle that I drew on Grow, tracing the edge of the round glass table it sits on. Maybe it just defined my current reach. Now red, like a ring of fire.
Today I am composed. I am the Composition. I am simply focused, I guess, on what’s here. freedom is Working on the incomplete and bringing them to a point of peace. Letting all else go. Be. I found this, from 101. Just rereading it. No need to change anything, nothing to add.
G. G is for green and yes there is more and more Green. And G is for Gross, the humidity and heat that is. But G is also, suddenly, for Goodness Gracious, Love in the Mist comes in colors! Grow is on the table. I am not measuring, just eyeballing, and now drawing a circle. The circle is drawn. measure G is for the page I made for Grow that needs attention. And G is for the Glossary I added […]
Continuing. From here. I made a circle using the Double Running Stitch aka the Magic Stitch when it is done in black and white. I think really I should rename it the Double Walking Stitch. You have to go slowly. And there are more things to say. But not today. Loose thoughts are on my mind and then imaginings on how they might come together. And then of course the question. What If it doesn’t much matter? Followed quickly by […]
This Just Going, my style of keeping at it, it can be unnerving to some. My Dad was always after me to finish things, have a plan. At least when I was just starting out…because even as I look back it is hard for me to even remember what my reasons were for most things. Just that there was no Rhyme or Reason or Particular Order to me. Yet, a sense of direction always remained. And direction becomes circular. And […]