so it's taken all this time, which really, isn't any time at all, but seems like a lot of time, to understand why i am so taken by this pic of self i took and put here yesterday. I enlarged it and took another of the enlargement on the computer screen this morning
i was talking to Alyssia and we were thinking about why i am so interested in this and it didn't come when we were talking, but just now, after we hung up….
it's that this is the ME in my dreams. the ME who dreams, who is in the middle of all of the dreams that i dream so busily every single night, more busy often than any day might be. There are old lovers, there is often lately, my Mother, there are many women in the dreams and this is the me in the dreams i dream. Why this is particularly important now, i have no clue. But i look at this image and know it to be me and know it to be the me that shares some kind of life with many others. Real and Dream others. This is she who GOES. even more than in the light of day. OK. OK. and ok.
It RAINED all night. NON STOP. BUCKETS of RAIN dumped down
Lake front property. MISERABLE for Goats. It continued all day, like ALL day, not in buckets, but steady. Steady rain. It's not that they are picky, it's that for some reason, eating wet feed isn't good. and wet feed was all there was. They kept standing there looking at me like i could make it different, make it ok. I couldn't.
i sat, stood, sat with this Cloth all day long…taking things away, putting them back and in the end the only thing stitched on was the
magician
that oh so small image…size of a postage stamp…made square…ish. stitched. firm. the vagueness, the small ephemeral quality of it. Liminal. Threshold. This image, probably never the same because how Could it Be?, will continue. the magician.
windthread 
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