in and out,
up and down,
over and over.
she wove her strands of life together,
patching hole after hole.
eventually she saw it was more than the threads that gave her strength,
it was in the very act of weaving itself
that she became strong.
~ terri st. cloud ~
~~~
tired of multi-tasking and compartmentalizing,
weary of my worth being defined by how busy i am
and how full my calendar is,
knowing that i learn best when my body,
my entire self is involved,
i sign up for jude hill’s cloth to cloth class,
determined to weave the life i want.
i start with a colorful, hand-painted marbelized fabric.
a fabric that while beautiful, is busy and indecipherable.
i weave in calm, muted, solid colors
providing spaces to exhale and explore,
places with room to just nap and ponder and be.
it’s mounted on a sturdy, textured base.
the frayed, unfinished edges remain unhidden from public consumption now.
the stitches that hold it all together
are not straight or even,
or dainty or fine.
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