new moon new year

Happy New Year! Doesn't it seem auspicious that the new year, already brimming with possibilities, also begins with a new moon? It's very exciting. This year I continue my efforts to synchronize myself with the moon and other rhythms of nature -- with my lifestyle, the things I make, gardening, and even my inner work.

A new moon enhances and strengthens any kind of beginning. A full moon is a time of completion and acknowledgment. And the dark moon is a time for inner discovery. This will be a kind of template for me -- and you, too, if you wish to join in -- to refer to throughout the month. It may change or expand with time, but the focus will hold true.

And so I begin. Each new moon I draw two cards for insight, one from each deck -- a ritual that I've practiced for a long time. I see the cards as an unencumbered method of communicating and being honest with myself. Last month, both of the cards I drew had a theme of strength, which was unsettling at first. I wondered why I would need to be strong because life was easy-going at the time. As the month unfolded, however, it proved to be difficult and pretty darn sad at times. I returned to those strength cards over and over to reread their messages and I think they helped.

I recently watched Sanna make pomegranate juice with a regular citrus juicer, a new technique for me -- I've only ever made pomegranate juice by putting the seeds in the blender and then straining them out of the liquid. This was much nicer and it tastes sweet and delicious.

Beginning anew is a good way to describe my sewing project. I'm returning to the black velvet long cloth with new ideas. It was started a few years ago during one of the first classes I took with Jude. Blogging was new to me then, on-line classes were new, and stitching freely with no pattern was really new -- lots of things have changed.

A dye bundle was made. I rolled and steamed a scrap of wool with eucalyptus leaves & stems, and pomegranate parts -- to be completed and unrolled on the full moon.

I thank you for visiting. I'm only doing things I love to do today and being here is one of them. Looking forward now -- it's going to be a great year, isn't it? xo

moonday chaos

Today is a dark moonday in the sign of Sagittarius. When the moon has retreated completely and can't be seen, it is in this darkness that potential begins to stir and grow. I envision a chaos of possibility and wonder what will come of it, what seeds will germinate in the swirling darkness?

Each moon phase holds different life-affirming/supporting/enhancing energies. I'm thinking about how I'd like to tap into those mighty forces throughout the coming year. And I'm examining some other changes and new directions that beckon me.

My work table is a place of chaos today. Even so, certain bits of cloth and threads and trimmings come together just because. As does glitter and paper. In the same way, over the next several days and maybe even by the new moon on January 1, I'm hoping for other things to coalesce.

To a lovely, happy week!

13th moon cloth

A 13th moon cloth is in the works, I found another one of my mom's crocheted snowflakes, so that was a sign. It's almost a miniature, I wonder if she ran out of thread. The mornings have been beautiful. A magic card came inside a package from Macy's -- I'm keeping the magic. The cold nights are beautiful, too.

Today is a waning moonday in Virgo, a time when we have a tendency to overdo ourselves. I say plan out relaxing activities from the get-go.

Wishing you happy days filled with beauty and magic! xoxo

a snowflake nine-patch

I finished the snowflake nine-patch pillow just a little while ago. It took me nearly all day, I thought it would only be about an hour, but there's a lot of little edges on a snowflake. I had a nice time sewing and thinking about how much my mom would like seeing her handwork find new life. White cotton crocheted snowflakes, black linen, and a December calendar-cloth patch.

After years and years of drinking herbal infusion, I've started making two quarts at a time instead of one every day, saving time and mess. It took a long time, too long, to come to this.

My focus now is on the change in season and the turning of the wheel of the year. To better see the darkness, I've been stringing lights everywhere, more than I've ever done, I think. The snowball lights remind me of little moons.

Which, by the way, today is the full moon. When I was writing morning pages this morning, I accidentally wrote today is the fun moon.

Happy fun moon. xo

cheer

My favorite time of day now is dusk. With a cup of tea or a glass of wine, a lit candle, in the quiet.

A few days ago, I came upon my copy of Celtic Devotional by Caitlin Matthews and, well, the saying everything old is new again applies here. There is value in forgetting things sometimes. Arranged by season with key words and phrases for meditation or prayer and activities as well, it is a gem of a little book. In the Celtic tradition, Samhain (Sow'en) isn't just one day -- a/k/a All Soul's Day, Dia de los Muertos, Halloween -- it's the entire season of November through January. The winter quarter of Samhain is a time of personal introspection, contemplation on the season, and remembrance of ancestors, loved ones, and "the elders of spiritual traditions whose footsteps have kept the pathways open." That feels good to me because I wasn't able to really let go of that connection with my loved ones at Samhain. Everywhere I look, I see something that reminds me of someone I love.

The black linen, nine snowflakes crocheted by my mom, and white pompom trim are coming together for a simple little sewing project. That she made nine snowflakes is key. I never truly appreciated them until I laid them on the black, it was very exciting.

The paper whites are shooting up. Soon. I read somewhere that winter squash stores well on top of the kitchen cupboards and so far, it's true. I like the way it looks, too.  No snowflake curtain yet, it'll get hung in January this year. For now we'll just have plain and simple cheer.

Thanks for visiting and happy weekending. Cheer. xo

cloud cloth moonday

A little kitchen witchin' -- I strained the holy basil oil and unrolled a dye bundle. The holy basil oil smells so good. I think we'll just use it straight out of the bottle because it might lose its holy fragrance during the salve-making process.

A silk dye-bundle was made from the hardiest of alyssum flowers a few weeks ago -- after almost everything around it had died and turned brown, the alyssum continued. The purple of its little blossoms was so intense, they simply would not be ignored.

A little stitching on the slow cloth. I sort of wish I hadn't outline-stitched that part with the red perle cotton, I'm not really feeling the red anymore. And an outline stitch isn't quite as easy as a back stitch or a running stitch to tone down or alter -- but I'm going to try and work with it.

Today is a waxing half moonday in Pisces. Half-way to a full moon. Half-way there will be a good mantra for the next eight days until then -- affirmative and trusting that things will come to fruition. Yes they will because I'm already half-way there.

This afternoon the half-moon high in the Colorado blue sky seemed to be made from a half-circle of white cloth. Seeing the moon during the day always makes me envision how I would stitch a day-moon-cloth -- what cloth could possibly duplicate that texture and translucence and softness. Today it wasn't my usual daydream of white lace, but a little half-circle of white cloud cloth. 

I have to find some cloud cloth now, pretty sure I have some.

flower cloth

A little winter eco-dyeing is in the works lately -- indoors, that is -- although I can't wait to use the antique stove Jan got me a few months ago. I'm happy for it to be a stand to just set dye-pots on, but he's also willing to hook it up to gas for simmering and boiling and brewing. It would be permanent then though, and for some reason I'm not quite ready to make that commitment for the space. But who knows.

Our Thanksgiving Day flower bouquets were so lovely and it came to me that something could be done with them. One dye bundle is beige/brown wool and the other is cotton. They've been steamed and are now being pressed under a stack of books (thanks again, Kathy) -- in a week I'll open them up.

The other day I was cutting back the leggiest stems of a sun-starved old-fashioned rose geranium. This is the same plant that's placed just right for a dog's tail to swat when she wags, releasing a wonderful fragrance. Aromatherapy takes many forms. In the thread basket, the posy might do the same when I rummage for colors.

The bee house is all cozied up. With temperatures below zero at night here, the bees are working hard to maintain a constant 92 degrees Fahrenheit inside. Speaking of cold temperatures, we just watched the Netflix documentary Happy People: A Year in the Taiga. It doesn't feel so cold here after seeing that.

Thanks for visiting and happy weekending. xo