Texture Tuesday ... being clear


clear in our need

She never questioned her hankering for oranges, never
wondered why something in her palate or the deeper request
of her belly insisted on that handful of tart-sweet wedges.  The body is clever,
hearing so precisely its own call we don't stop to contemplate, What is this thirst?
No, we make a beeline for the fridge, find fruit, slice it open.  And yet,
this long pause before the other longings, as if these were any more
complex, as if the wild heart of our hunger couldn't possibly be met.
Isn't it enough to be clear in our need?  What else is there to know before
we reach our hand in?  What better invitation than the cells stirring from their bed,
shrugging from an old slumber, wanting, simply, to be fed?

: : :

This poem from Maya Stein is one from her  10-Line Tuesday  series,
a weekly poetry practice she started in 2005 ...
there's a beautiful backlog of them  HERE.
I often like to combine her prose with one of my pictures
and link up with Kim Klassen's  'Texture Tuesday'  set ...
texture lovers may want to have a peek  OVER THERE.

: : :

Photo recipe:
Shot with an iPhone through the jeep windshield
Kim Klassen's texture,  framed


2 for two hundred ...


Thank you
to all who stopped by to participate in my little giveaway ...
it was entirely lovely to hear from some of you who are normally
and equally as lovely to have old
[and some not so old]
pals stopping by to join the celebration.

Alrighty then, shall we have a  {{{{{ drumroll }}}}}  for the names
pulled out of the hat?!

Here we go .....

Scraps in any colorway or combo of your choosing goes to
Debbie, from Tapestry @Sand Studio

Beads in any colorway or combo of your choosing goes to
Jennifer S., from true companion

So gals, please send me an email [link in the sidebar] with your
slow-mail addresses ... don't forget to tell me your color choices.

And just because I want to ....

I'm giving a special shout-out, hip-hip, and a BIG THANK YOU VERY MUCH!  to
who was the  ONLY  participant who actually followed my directions, which read,

Simply leave a comment below with one word,
"scraps"  OR   "beads"

I tend to be a direction-follower myself so I wholeheartedly appreciate
her  one word  response.  (And as it happens
she lives on an island, too  HERE).


Anyone remember this charming fellow?
I'll leave you with this ... seems appropriate for the occasion ...

Happiness runs in a circular motion
Thought is like a little boat upon the sea
Everybody is a part of everything anyway
You can have everything if you let yourself be.

Thanks again.  See you later.


Marking two hundred ...


Can hardly believe it.  This is my 200th blog post.
Will you join me in a giveaway to celebrate?
Not too fancy ... just a couple of small tokens
to let you know how much I appreciate your visits here.

I probably wouldn't have kept at it this so long if it hadn't been for
all of you stopping by to read and take the time to leave kind comments & such.
Your good suggestions, commiseration, pieces of advice, gentle observations, helpful tips
 ... oh, and the humor! the camaraderie!  the friendships from afar ... well, it's been grand.
Every bit of it
and I've loved it all.

So let's keep going on together for a while longer
since it appears [rolling eyes upward] I have not yet run out of things to say ...

nor have I run out of pictures to share ... 

[Autumn has arrived and the leafage has embarked on 
its miraculous dance tour again!]

Anyhoo, let's get down to it, shall we?

Here's how it shall go:  I've decided we should have 
giveaway items
(it is the  two  hundredth post after all) ...
One person will receive a small stash of cloth  scraps  in the color combo of
their choice, ripped & torn from my collection of lovelies in the cupboard,
mainly from old clothing and assorted textile items;
A second person will receive a small stash of  beads  in the color combo of
their choice, chosen especially for them from my [embarrassingly] good-sized
hoard  HOARD  collection of beads.

Simply leave a comment below with one word,
"scraps"  OR   "beads"
(no, no, you cannot have both, stop twitching)
and come this Saturday night, one name will be chosen out of each hat.
The recipients will be announced Sunday, sometime after morning coffee ~
that means sometime before noon.

Are you in?  All are welcome, 
even those who have never left a comment before.
If you are not signed in to Blogger, feel free to use the email link in the sidebar.

Deadline to enter:  Saturday, October 26th, 10pm, Pacific Time USA
I'll ship anywhere in the world
because we're all in this together.
And for that, I give you my deepest thanks.


Tossing in the whole shirt


After the workshop with India finished, my feet did not touch the ground
for about two weeks.
The first dye pot to hit the little hot plate on the porch 
became a native "soup" ... still riding high on inspiration,
I took a gamble with a weedy willow by the back pond
and after a vigorous haircut ~ leaves, branches, twigs, bark and all ~
simmered up some [surprising] tannin-rich color.

Then I decided to dye an entire shirt ...

yes, me ~ the one who only dyes small scraps of things.

- spent innards from the dye bundle & the wrapping stone -

During a jaunt to the village earlier in the week there had been a gentle query:
had I ever used  those leaves  [pointing to a purple-leaved maple] for dyeing? 
to which I replied, no.
When it was heartily suggested that I give them a go,
I knew that not heeding this very wise voice of experience
would be foolish.

A carpet of windfall was conveniently at hand on my next visit.

- saving string -

It was a challenge wrapping an entire piece of clothing.  I hadn't done it before
and found myself imagining where the stronger marks would appear; 
should leaves be face-up or down; would I
wrap around a piece of wood so as to float half submerged, or a stone,
to sink to the bottom.

This wrapping string

Red Silver Maiden Grass ~ Miscanthus sinensis 'Rotsilber'

had quite a lot in common with the plumes of the maiden grass
next to the house, I thought ...

which relates to the outcome in a way, too.

Everything is so connected in this arena
of the natural world.

Echoes everywhere.

I am so comfortable here.

Now, if I only had a tad bit of tailoring ability I'd be able to
deconstruct this silky number and turn it into something that fits.
[must keep that in mind the next time I decide to save a whole shirt from the scrapper.]


When next I post, it will be my  200th  ... how is that possible?
Perhaps we should celebrate, mark the event with a small *giveaway* ...
a name-in-the-hat thing for those of you who visit.

I'm so grateful.

Oh yes, this could be fun ... I'll see what I can come up with.  
Maybe dawg will have a paw handy 
to pick the name.


Passage of time ::: India Flint on Lopez Island : part two


[ click HERE to read part one ]

Breakfast bundles the second morning ... looking as tasty as blueberry, cinnamon,
and maple-covered scones, no?  Worth getting up for
and better than Christmas
in my books.

Purple carrots made for a colorful line.  So much diversity from one humble vegetable.
These heirlooms were a group growing effort by the Lopez gals so the harvest was plentiful ...
the color diversity from the dye baths, out of this world.

They look innocent enough.  Ha.

Brazen floozies.

As we settled into stitching our squares together, I began to experiment
with different types of thread; length of stitch, 2-ply vs. 4-ply, silk
compared to cotton, 1-ply silk like gossamer, oh my ...

When we hung our nine-patches in the loafing shed
- the sheltered overhang area next to the barn -
it was like standing inside a stained glass cathedral.
This may sound a bit dramatic but with the backlighting
the effect was quite close to ethereal.
Our cloths moved with the breeze ~
seams, stitch marks, overlaps,
everything revealed.

Still, we were nowhere near close to done.
India had one more surprise up her sleeve [in her pockets?] ...

Behind us on a table lay this pieced beauty - an example of things to come.
Look closely.
Think scissors.
Think chop, chop, chop.

[enter expletives]

Brave souls,
we marched.

Back in the workroom with tasks at hand, all did not go as planned ...
we sewed upside down, dropped our favorite needles, jostled over the ironing board,
blew the circuit breaker, spilled our coffee, got tipsy on chocolate
and in the end
the whole room seemed to come down with   one giant case of the sillies.

And then,
and we dissolved into uproarious laughter. 

When ones only mode of transportation is a pair of crutches,
improvise  and carry your cloth on your head ...
that's using the ole noodle, S!

My own cloth began to come together & I grew fonder of my mark [there
on the purple silk].  They were laborious to stitch, one mark needed for each
of the nine squares.  I am NOT a fast stitcher, but in the end
I was grateful to have them ["That one's mine!"  "No, it's mine!" etc.].
The thread I used took the dye beautifully
and has a lovely sheen.

Poppy, this picture is for you ~
here's to "rustic running stitches."

Home now.

As I continue with stitching, I remember more teachings & inspiration;
the different ways water quality can effect color -
well water compared to rainwater,  vs. treated from the tap;
how post-mordanting with common scrap metals
like an iron or copper bath [try old pennies]
can enhance marks and deepen - or "sadden" - color;
how poetry, music, long walks in quiet,
and the ability to just go on no matter the odds,
these all bring meaning to art ... to life ... to the cloth.

"We don't stop playing because we grow old;
we grow old because we stop playing."

~ George Bernard Shaw ~

When someone offers a very special gift,
one that might unleash hours of wild abandon,
one that might propel you through abundant fields never before crossed,
or lead to the most exhilarating of discoveries,
right there, on your own patch of earth ...
there's really only one thing to do.

Thank you, India, for sharing your life's work with us.