there is the urge to think of more little things to add.
that it is "not enough". too plain.
but i won't. yesterday, looking for something else entirely,
i came across this bell in one of the bead tins.
i picked it out and looked at it for a long time, listened
to it's clear little tone. put it back.
and it all progresses this way:
~somewhere in the dream during the night, i am making something
with the bell.
~this morning, i see jude's jar.
~finishing the Wind strands, i am compelled to go find the bell, the
strand of magic thread, and
~the feeling that sometimes happens when dream and awake realities
cross, begins. i have no way to describe that feeling but the
closest i can come is that it is like some kind of vertigo.
a physical sensation.
and so, this is it.
windthread 
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