How we Are, somehow, who we Are. and the question to wonder, is…is this just some kind of preference? or, is it really, some kind of uhhhh, imprinting. lets call it that. imprinting. we could call it many things, like past life memory, some kind of karmic quality, or an "agreement", a curriculum we bring to this Earth school.
OR some kind of accidental thing?, that accidentally gets repeated enough times to seem to just be.
This Garden's Dream is finished.
and i can take this opportunity to think something too about the thoughts that Minka raised over on the Spirit Diaries Forum. about when a cloth is "finished" . and does the possibility of selling a cloth enter in to "finishing" it and "how" it is finished. and Jude commented that maybe she would just never "finish" anything, making it all a mute point. so..i have been thinking about this all along. And what i Think i ended up thinking is: The stuff i make …. is stuff that is in effort to give visual/tactile image to something that i experience, and that experience is not always my own. in the instance here, it was a feeling of what is going on under the earth here in this last period of time before it all begins to Happen above. Yes. i could stitch more. it Could go on and on forever. but the story that "showed up" for me is told here. As it is right now.
And i thought about how it's kind of like writing a poem. you begin with just a bunch of thoughts and as it goes, many change, or get left out. some might be added or clarified, but then at some point, you feel like you have said what wanted to get said. it might have become very short. and you might have hoped for a longer poem. so you could add to certain parts, add a few more metaphors, add more description, more mood. you could. but really, there is that Point when the words say what wanted to be said. and more just are nothing but ….well, more.
so that's where this cloth got to. it's finished. more would just be more. the question being, then, Why?
so…ok. and in keeping with WonderBird, how IS it then, that all the stuff i make is so similar? carries the same "signature", whether it's drawings, fiber figures, cloth. they are so,,,,related. and a larger question is, Why, can i not change that. Even if i TRY. and so….Does this mean that something in me that is innate is FIXED? and when was it FIXED? and then, too, what does it say about my "view" of the world? that i live in. and if someone said "grace, you can go now to become the next mother theresa"…..would i? would i be ok with giving up this self? if not, why not? So, it seems that there are a lot of questions arising. and i'm thinking that it's a very good thing to have given a committment to one year. everyday for one year. and at the end of that time, if i can come to no good conclusions, i will just STOP. and be done with it. This is an indulgence.
this is mr. P. cock and mrs. P. hen. they live with 4 chickens, Brownie and Brownie and Blackie and Blackie over at Allen's house. he's gone for 4 days and i am responsible for their wellbeing and the cat's. Yesterday when i was there and didn't think to take the camera, Mr. was in Full Display. he circled and circled, shook and rattled. he was perfect. no single feather out of place. he was in Mrs.' face constantly. today, all is more relaxed. i guess it was a good evening. But the WonderBird question here is….WHY? Why the just impossible to comprehend variety in living creatures? Function is one thing. filling a particular ecological niche is one thing. but the extravagance of some of it is just nothing short of CRAZY. his tail is probably 10 ft wide. He comes from a long line of domestic peacocks. evolution could have given then a break. but no. there he is in a relative small pen with one female of his kind and 4 regular chickens. Fanning. Fanning. Why?
and one more thing. Allen is kind of a regular guy. in his 40's. a batchelor. kinda plain. but just outside his back gate, suddenly, there is
no easy task. What…….is he thinking?
windthread 
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