bee creative

hope

I've finished reading A Sideways Look at Clouds and have started reading Horizon by Barry Lopez.

As it seems to happen...I find connections. 

This week's On Being Newsletter features an interview with Craig Minowa and Cloud Cult which led me down a rabbit hole of listening.

In the interview there is a discussion about hope, and then later as I read Horizon I find:

"We, all of us, look back over our lives, trying to make sense of what happened, to see what enduring threads might be there.  My further desire in planning this book was to create a narrative that would engage a reader intent on discovering a trajectory in her or his own life, a coherent and meaningful story, at a time in our cultural and biological history when it has become an attractive option to lose faith in the meaning of our lives.  At a time when many see little more on the horizon but the suggestion of a dark future." 

Thinking about time this morning.

And hope.

Also... a link for the cloud watchers, this is a nice one for identifying the scientific names of clouds. This morning I would say I have Stratus clouds...a gray blanket of low clouds (pure coincidence I am sure).

The forecast is for sunny skies although I wish it would rain just a bit more and water the garden.

 

time flies

Most of my my non-work time recently has been spent in the garden...pulling weeds, pruning, planting, dreaming and sneezing.

I was really worried that my fig hadn't made it through the cold snap last January, but there are baby figs!

Another happy discovery...strawberries at the farmer's market!

I am pretty sure these are from a hoop house but still, this is early.  The greens are lettuce and spinach from the garden. 

I've also finished hemming the first of the sewing projects that I started last week. 

This is essentially three squares.  The neckline was cut on the fold of the larger square and the sleeves added to the sides.  Elastic was added to the ends of the sleeves. 

It's made with rayon so it has a lot of drape.  Rayon is something I try to avoid but I just loved this print and gave in during a moment of weakness.

This a pattern/layout I've been playing with for many years now but I've also been recently inspired by Christi Johnson. 

And lastly:

They still haven't grown out of the need to snuggle together and there is no box too small...

everyday

Earth pigment, the soil from my garden.

A different perspective.

Foot level, just after sunrise. 

I am on staycation again this week and am planning on working on at least one project everyday. 

Today I finally got around to making clothing for a doll I've been working on for quite awhile.

I named her Primrose...last year or maybe the year before? 

Time gets away from me. 

The blue is indigo (ice dyed from the fresh plant) and the purple hollyhock; all fabrics silk.  The piece of fabric with the dots was originally dyed with onion skin and pennies as a resist and then dyed in the indigo.  It's one of my favorite pieces of fabric that I've ever dyed.

Still more work to do on Primrose, but first I need to find my felting needles...hopefully that won't take me another year. 

maybe we need a new word

There were a few things I hoped to find as I was sorting.

This was one of them.

It's a strip of squares pieced together.

It will eventually be a fabric basket, cube shaped.

One panel is a sleepy baby dragon made during one of Jude's classes.

I am hoping to work on it for about 10 minutes each day until I can call it done enough to assemble. 

I've been thinking about what it means to finish something since I wrote this as a comment on one of Jude's posts,

I think for me, when I think of unfinished…it’s the stage between started and useful for something other than the process of making (which is a useful thing for mental health!). Once it’s reached functional… I guess I think of it as in a process of change, and maybe just that? Maybe this is why I gravitate towards blankets/pillows/containers/clothing…. I’ve got to think about this more.

This continues to feel true to me.  Once something reaches a point of telling a story or being useful, it feels finished to me. 

But this doesn't mean that there might not be more to do.  There will be.

The story might change; the purpose might as well.  There may be mending to do. Everything is up for revision.  Everything is always transforming as it ages, always becoming.

The garden is always growing.

Perhaps it is only finished when it is consumed? I have finished the last of the peanut butter...it is consumed.

Can an idea be consumed? 

 

true

Monday morning

Seagull after seagull flying north.

I stopped counting after 20 or so.

The colors are accurate.

 

Parting at Morning

Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,

And the sun looked over the mountain rim:

And straight was a path of gold for him,

And the need of a world of men for me.

Robert Browning

From last week:

My sense of time is very off right now. 

No consistent patterns for my days, no measure of time the same. Is it ever really?

Thinking about structure and time passing.

About "true" as a pattern making term, making something the same length, making sure your pattern pieces match up...

noticing, day twenty five

This morning I noticed a dot on the paper I made this summer and thought, interesting.

Just the way it fell...

I also strained the rose hips that were soaking in alcohol. The dot on the top is a sample of that "ink." Not great color but it smells fabulous and I am considering making another batch as a tincture.

The middle dot is rose hip ink made last year by simmering the rose hips in water, and the bottom rose hip ink made last year by simmering mashed rose hips in water. 

The water based rose hip inks seem much more colorful, especially the third sample. Maybe the result of heat?   I will be making more soon. 

a few things, day twenty one

And

and

Brick pigment + oak gall/iron

place, day twenty

I was reminded today that the meteorological beginning of Winter is December 1st.  Today felt like winter. 

Standing at the bakery waiting for my coffee and pear danish, a gust of wind blew the last of the leaves up into the air.  The sky darkened and someone said "here comes the rain." I am pretty sure I heard someone start humming the Eurythmics song. 

I was able to get a short walk in before the rain really got going.

I gathered a couple of pieces of brick that I brought home and made some pigment with.

This is why I love making the pigments so much. 

It's another way to hold something, even if it's just for a little while.

dot as mask, day fifteen

erasing time.

on the dot, day nine

ellipsis, day eight

Three dots, sometimes followed by a fourth.

They make me think of liminal spaces...

I like to imagine three dots as an endless amount of possibilities; the fourth dot as a finite amount.

Just before sunrise this morning...