windthread

Look

 

 

 

 

 

From Deb Lacativa.    She said she couldn't cut them,  or,  didn't know how she might cut them,  and so Use them.  So she sent them to me.  I look.  How might i possibly Cut one?,  Use one?  

Deb is a Wizard.  Deb is what,  Deb is an intuitive dyer.  Her cloths are of the most magic and elegant forms in the Universe.  The Glow,  they Shine,  they Hummm of Deep things of the Planet.   And they are never the same.  Just as the Universe is evolving,  so too,  her Cloth.

 

 

She dyes thread.  THIS.  This may just stay here.  On the altar.  

 

This is how the wood box should look every evening.  It rarely does.  or,  so far,  it rarely does.  Maybe things are different now.  But Tay and i worked and here it is.  So, ok.

 

and mid day,  i began with the Inktense Pencils.   In the "Black Book".   Not the greatest paper for what they are,  but good enough.   Looking at the "lead" or the bottom of the pencils which one might guess represents the color,  is useless.  It's not at all what shows up with use.   So i do this.  Will give me a sense of their colors,  tho it will be very different on cloth.  But the doing of it was extremely satisfying,  pleasurable,  joyfull,  happy

which leads to the real sense of the day and the word Semantics.

I used to so much love language.  When i imagined myself being able to be a Writer.  I loved words,  how words linked together to form Beauty.  I spent long times in a dreamland of language.  And then suddenly it went away and i just wanted the most spare of things.  The word    Stuff   became a favorite.  

but/and today,  as i was walking back to the faucet after filling the Way Back tub with water,  my Self Mind said "aloud",  i am really Happy.   I noted.   

I am really happy.

How can this be?   this 

really happy.   ????

But i WAS.   In that moment.   Without anything,  i was really happy.  I was walking slowly back to the faucet,  having filled the water tub.   The Goats were chewing their morning alfalfa,  i could hear the sounds of their chewing.  There was Sun.  It wasn't warm yet,  but it also was not Cold.  My hood was up from the sweatshirt.  I had my gloves on.  They were sheltering my hands.  The Fire was burning inside.  There is plenty of wood.  The day was Opening Out.  and right away, then

i thought of Fate.  I thought of how i don't know anything about how it is for him in that moment.

and I thought about this thought.   And there was an unidentifiable sense.  Somehow,  Everything had the same

weight

i don't know another way to say it right now.  But,  Everything had the SAME WEIGHT.  Nothing pulled down.  Nothing rose up.  All.  All was the same.

so maybe this is a clue for what i am trying to understand?

I think of the words Happiness,  Joy,  Pleasure,  and then i immediately set them against/with

sad

But maybe

Everything has the same weight.