Late July. Early August. Something comes over me this time of year and I have a hard time putting that something into words but I want to try. It's the thickness of the air and how it looks and feels green to me now. It's about the pace and intensity of insect sounds and bird songs and kids playing outside at dusk. It's the way my bare feet seem to spring roots that sink into the ground with each step, how I am drawn to lie down on the grass to be pulled oh so close to the mother. And for some reason, I just seem to quit caring about all the things I thought needed doing. Instead, I wander.
The dye and mordant pots have been in use. With a mixture of fibers, the gray results are from red basil aerial parts and the golds/rusts are from dyer's coreopsis aerial parts, with a pup to match. My favorite pieces are the two doilies. This growing season one small bed in the Buddha garden was dedicated to just dye plants and it's done so well. Soon the Japanese indigo will be ready, maybe using some simple shibori.
I stitched a likeness of a tarot card from The Herbal Tarot and decided to pin-storm (pinning up a storm) it to the black linen journal cover as a sort of preview. I like it -- and can use the journal to record tarot/oracle cards and layouts and aha moments that I always think I'll remember forever but never do. The misty star patch is from Spirit Cloth's ThreadCrumbs Shop and the moon was cut from my handwritten Rumi cloth.
The first green pepper from plants grown from seed was eaten. A bowl of bindweed blossoms was picked to dry and burn and a big pot of bindweed vines is on the stove right now making dye.
That's about it. Thanks for visiting and happy weekending.