The drawing:
The stitching:
Our art teachers gave us the rules:
Grass is green,
skies are blue.
Why do we listen?
How can anybody else
know what color your grass is?
~ Pam Grout ~
via my friend, Karen Caterson
——-
More Envoy packets are winging their way across the country,
and some are winging their way back!
There’s still time if you’d like to get involved.
~~~~~~~~~
She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.
“Not straight or even or dainty or fine” – nope…just beautiful, like you –
thank you, kathy. my grandmother is rolling over in her grave at the size of my stitches. . .
In the very act of weaving she became strong … oh, sigh. I adore this. How I long to know it is true!
isn’t that a beautiful poem? she’s got more. go check her out.
providing spaces to exhale and explore,
places with room to just nap and ponder and be.
AWESOME!! “Embrace the space!”
i seem to need places to nap more than anything else these days . . .
Love it! The words, the fabric, you.
thank you, eliz. we’re both a little frayed and unfinished around the edges, but hey.
“busy and undecipherable” … this is my brain. this is my brain on fabric. If you hear a clunking sound below the ground it’s only your grandmother rolling straight into mine as she rolls over pretty much of everything I’ve stitched since this class began. So glad you’re there.
acey, acey, acey. my funny friend. i’m so glad you’re there, too.
that fabric is outrageous.the stitches are as stitches become. glue
glue. exactly.
Because of the strength of the very act of weaving, the end result, although beautiful and full of joy, is immaterial (so to speak).
Thank you for the beauty!
Hugs and butterflies,
~T~
thank you, my beautiful friend. am so enjoying starting my day with a taste of the world through your eyes and spirit.
“the stitches that hold it all together
are not straight or even,
or dainty or fine.”
kind of like life, don’t you think? i love this, i need to take charge of my own crazy busyness like this. for a while, knitting did this for me, still does actually, but i don’t very often sit down and do it. i love the way you weave words as well.
thanks, thelma, for the kind words – they really mean a lot coming from such an exquisite word-weaver as your own special self.
those stitches: yes, i think they are just like life. you know, quilting stitches are supposed to be tiny. the tinier, the finer. the finer, the more accomplished and stitcheress.
another thing that’s never gonna be on my resume.
thanks, thelma, for the kind words – they really mean a lot coming from such an exquisite word-weaver as your own special self.
those stitches: yes, i think they are just like life. you know, quilting stitches are supposed to be tiny. the tinier, the finer. the finer, the more accomplished and stitcheress.
another thing that’s never gonna be on my resume.
xo
“the frayed, unfinished edges remain unhidden from public consumption now.” These words grabbed me, for I have the sense now is simply now, and soon these won’t be so hidden…
loving you,
Julie
nothing gets past you, does it, darlin? xo
Simple, honest, beautiful and heartspun ~ I love this. Thank you!
thank you, my singing buddy.
Visiting your words always feels a little like coming home.