windthread

 

i surprise my self at what i put here sometimes. asking self why. what was/is the point,. but soon enough,
i find out. and am learning to trust that initial urge, not censor it.

the original thought of this blog was to be a record for me of the experience of Jude's workshops, of learning
to make story cloth. words at the core of that were: weaving selves together. and so it is.

in the next to the last lesson this morning is a video about Ragged Applique and toward the end she says
this: "As with all things, experience will allow you to choose what works best for you. If pieces fall off
or degrade over time, it is just an opportunity for mending and learning and those things are just as
fulfilling as making."

 

his ashes are under this. the person i believed in. who asked me to believe in him.
i think he was sincere, in this asking. i think it was real.
but
then…he couldn't follow through.
When someone can't follow through, who do you
blame?
there is no blame.
but there is, always, some kind of truth.
it is the forever looking for the real, soft, loving truth that
has worth.
i think of Jude's being. she is talking about this.

 

for responding to these things
that are actually small moments that become days that become a life~time

i am very interested lately, well always, but even more lately
about how there are only really just moments.
in that post, a moment in a photograph
a cloth
a string of thoughts put into words

thank you, each of you, for responding

 

in the beginning, there was cloth
j.hill

just wanting to look at where the day got to…i began at 8 am. it's almost 12 hours later.

 

 

we are evolving. not finished, and so i feel like i can continue with my own interpretation of creation.
this cloth is one that i was compelled to make when i first came across Spirit Cloth i think last November.
i had never done anything like it before.
it is autobiographical. you can see my toe in the
capillary fringe which is a true scientific term for a layer of earth/water/oxygen here in the Rio Grande
Valley of south central new mexico. if a being, say a tree, bush, or a woman, can make contact with it's
root, it can live.

the second photograph here is of my granddaughter and her son. visiting. sleeping.
this granddaughter was conceived in my daughter's own creation myth at her age of 16. i voted for abortion.
the 16 yo daughter was quiet and in her myth, the featus, (who is the sleeping young woman in this photograph)
stopped moving for a day or so. we were quiet too. then, i received a phone call from the daughter from
her alternative school. she had been in choir class and singing and opened a piece of Fleer bubble gum
which had "fortunes" on the wrapper. the fortune on her wrapper said something very close to: "you can have
what you want if you want it". she called, to say that she wanted this baby. that she had felt lost when
there was no movement and upon reading her bubblegum fortune and realizing she WANTED this baby, the baby
(the sleeping young woman in the photo) moved.

22 years later, the baby girl sleeps with her own baby son while visiting from the navy in San Diego. She
has a husband. She has a life. She has a baby boy.
She has taught me a huge percentage of what i hold of value about living. She is magnificant.
and when she saw this cloth i made,
she asked for it.
i have made a ton of things. and this is the first thing any of my family has

asked for.

 

 

am thinking, the beginning is where ever something begins, or is thought of as beginning, so

who would have ever guessed…one thing led to the next

 

rain
cloth line: left 2 weeks onion skin in Sun
right trumpet vine, exposure to air
black/white dog
the rug after laundromat

 

last late afternoon and on into the evening was disorder in the hood. there is a relatively (very) new
person on the road that is quite the nightmare and was being what she is best at, a nightmare, and
doing this with my across the road neighbor Margie and when these things reach what feels like Critical Mass,
it is my job to Witness. I have to sit on my back steps and listen, be ready to intervene if necessary on
Margie's behalf, somehow…i can't imagine what exactly that would be, but….and it went on into this
morning with the visit of the local sheriff's deputy and again, i am sitting on my back steps, in case.
Then
i go to work to the moderately dementia'd person and end up spending an entire day taking her shopping and
then there was a GIGUNDA STORM
and all the while, all i can think of is
cloth. so here i am, and i want to put Manya's words here because they made
All The Difference In The World

"it is the trickster who lives in the seams and all the inbetween places and it makes me happy to think we are making a house for him. it is worth cutting up an expanse of cloth, just to stitch it back together again to make that
inbetween space where he likes to be….
inviting the agent of chaos…, no?"

these words are very important.
and i look at Jude's post, the picture of her beautiful aqua mom, and i think of what i responded to in that
post of her beautiful aqua mom and then her beautiful aqua stitches

and i think…it's the trickster, and better words yet, even
the agent of chaos
that is really totally NECESSARY
in a woman's Life
and if i have no role model, then…more important, even
to watch my Self very very closely….