Friday, December 13, 2019
Thursday, December 12, 2019
One of not knowing what will come next
yet at the same time, comfortable in the knowledge that it will be the same as it always has been.
A going with it
A plunging in.
But also a feeling of tenderness and serenitiy. A kind of joy.
I've been working steadily on my gratitude log cabin piece
195 more weeks until we are married 50 years.
Hoping that everything stays the same.
Our health, our minds, the world, our kids' well-being.
Journal text from December 11
Monday, December 9, 2019
Saturday, December 7, 2019
Wednesday, December 4, 2019
Monday, December 2, 2019
I have hung it on my studio curtain rod for two years, now I will fold it up
I don't know how to use it just now. I need to wait.
The LaVallee quilt is ready for binding.
I choose the rayon that turned greenish when I put it into the alkaline water Ned made me from wood ash. It had originally been pink, dyed from staghorn sumac drupes.
Sunday, December 1, 2019
secular, intellectual modernities
asserting and attending to systems of belief
the condition in which it is possible for an image to bond
the conscious touching of a moment in time
the impossibility of pushing an additional layer of colour into a long-dried wall when a fresh start may be the only way
the violence of erasure
the resurfacing of images
where do cut fragments go?
what are half-lives?
what might emerge from the debris littering the landscape?
because when you erase a drawing there are still traces
when you un-pick a stitching we still know it had been there
there is the memory of it