this whole Cloth began in its beginning as only the small scrap in the center…the black and grey small scrap that looked to me like some kind of ultrasound image.  fetal.  undefined, still.   It kept rising up in the basket over and over and i'd hold it and look and try to make some…

on the cleared gravel  just a way from the work table,  half way between the hill of the Morning Tree and the Doe Goat Shelter,  traveling at a brisk pace. Proof that some otherworldly Brilliant Intelligence designs such things to grace this planet Earth.    Just for Beauty.  Just for Joy.   Looking up into the…

in New Mexico,  the Spade Foot Toads.  They live.  Underground.  The  whole year.  Until monsoon.  Which has been maybe July give or take.  Now,  who knows.   They live underground and Wait.  Somehow so perfectly "evolved".   I think about that word, evolved….what has their evolvement brought….them,  the planet?   but when the monsoon rains would come,  and…

this is the one i put here the other day,  knowing Jude would be talking about scraps.  So,  i just put some here.  Not chosen, really,  just off the top of the little scrap basket at the table altar.  They had no particular meaning.  In this context.   This morning.   I can't remember when this…

Alyssia picked it up last Sunday in a nearby town.   A family makes them.    They talk about it on the buy sell trade page as a picnic table.  They must be tall.  It's tall.   But this makes it a perfect work table.   Cloth can be layed out and bundled.   One of the benches can…

sometimes the images are so much There.  This,  probably  the most of any.   There was no effort. Which is WonderFULL.  But also which brings the  reality that there really is little else that is needed.  And,  more, wanted.  Stitches or the addition of cloth fragments feel almost intrusive,  and  for no good reason.   

so Beauty Fully,  sharing space.  Of their own accord.  Tall Grass People,  Sky Lupine.   Next to.   Sharing.  Each complete.  

when i went to the top gate of B yesterday,  to go In,   through the fence gate so i could hang the Love Pennant,  so i could plant the little pots of spindly Indigo and Madder,  i was not expecting what i found.  Instantly,  there before me was a Fine and Brilliant world of Beings…all…

    it was nothing less than magical.  I'd not gone in,  from the back of B for over a week.  Everything had changed.  Everywhere were small,  tiny,  blooming plant people…so many it was breathtaking.  In the bag,  on the arm of the New Mex chair,  the bag from Deb Lacativa,  i brought Mo's Pennant. …