mythcolour

at last, the bright side. Bread and Books.

2012-01-20T13:14:00.000+02:00

this crisis thing, or recession, or depression-call it what you like. Sometimes its a foggy road on the mountain

sometimes its scary like what if there is a hole in the fence

but sometimes it can be light, clear and beautiful

Like today, in Nea Makri
I went to meet up and have coffee with a friend. we actually had never done this before, we only meet at rallies and committees
so today we met to talk. At a cafe, with this view. After days and days of freezing weather, the sun was hot, so we sat outside
amongst other topics we talked about my books.
I am a booklover and a bookeater, and, until recently a book collector. Until this summer, I finally realised that books are made to be read, and not for sitting on shelves collecting dust. so since July I've been taking them down, keeping only my stories and storytelling reference books, much read and loved.
and then piles of books- what to do with them..
I tried freecycle, gave away good university bibliography to open university students. Others needed to know which books I'm giving away, but they are so many I would need years to just write the titles and organise them..
tried looking at the bookcrossers sites, but again, something about them just didn't click
(maybe that self- congratulation..or the tracking down of books- and, no way would I "label" these books) that helped me think- I want them free, to be read, cherished, shared ..or thrown away..
to make a long story short
I am taking them to the cafe next week to start an open, liberated libray
and I am talking with other places in Athens
and we are starting a storytelling club as well. And it was soooo easy.
But that is not the magic part.
on my way back, I stopped at the bakers, in Marathon. There was a pile of books on the table. I asked, and they said..oh, my brother in law leaves them here, people take them and read them and bring them back..
that is the magic part
we are all beginning to think about ..well, everything
this would be unthinkable a couple of years ago..books in the bakers!

the world is made new today

2012-01-06T12:23:00.001+02:00

the day after they all left I got up long before dawn, drove over the hills, past the lake, took a train to the south, boarded a ship and travelled over the sea to a land of summer

I went toSyros to tell stories for a night.I am always amazed and wondering at how, in this country, you can go to so many different places so quickly.

I was transported to a place of almost indescribable beauty.

I saw pidgeons doing their courting dance, people swimming in the sea.

had a drink with friends, slept, coffee at the port, and then I was transported back home following the sea path, the one that gets left behind. The path you make.

here it is windy, rainy and very cold..winter, at last.

today, the 6th, the custom is that the priests bless the waters- all over Greece, in all bodies of water, the blessing is chanted and a cross is thrown in the water- men jump in to retrieve it, and he who comes up with it is the lucky man for the year- he takes the cross to all the houses bringing his good luck with him.
it is usually very cold, the people watching wearing coats and scarves.
it is called the festival of lights in greek- Ton Foton- that says something about sea and sun- but the wind is wailing too loud for me to formulate thoughts into words..
have to check the dripping leaking windows
so today when everything is blessed, cleansed and new
again
happy new everyday

lifidades

2012-01-02T03:26:00.000+02:00

this boy did go to sing carols with his violin

marathon 1930- Argos's forefather, picture taken at the souvlaki place

colours

a lot of cooking, baking, eating

new years day at the beach.. boys and dogs

i think we burned our whole supply of wood..

tomorrow my eldest son and his dad leave again. it was soo good to be all together these days.

I was having coffee with a friend, telling her that there are three things I want to do -keep in mind- practise this year: live every day, every moment, breathe through the soles of my feet, and love, wholly, totally, everything.

and while i was speaking the alley where we were sitting was filled with music- dauli and zurna- very loud.

and I remembered how this magical, mystical music has been part of the most important moments in my life, pushing me into the realisation of truth through its power

(the video is from youtube -for the flavour)

wishing all the best for all

may it be a good one!

magic

2011-12-08T23:25:00.001+02:00

there is magic in the air tonight
the moon is bathing the land in night
owl eyed Athena is looking down on me
faces stare at me
a warrior
a priestess
i am reading the iliad it is time

dogs,flokati,boy sleeping

making do

2011-11-24T13:11:00.001+02:00

this is my favourite olive tree

she is young and this year she produced her first "serious" crop

they don't stop giving, ever, and they live for many many years

new branches thrust towards the sun

pretty, isn't she?

needed a longer leash for Argos

so I made one

Since Amsterdam(long and heavy)

2011-11-22T10:09:00.001+02:00

o dromos

The road had its own history
someone wrote it on the wall, with a color
it was only one word, 'freedom'
and then they said that it was written by kids

And then time passed and history went on
it passed easily from memory to heart
the wall (now) said 'unique chance!
inside are sold materials of any kind!'

On Sundays from early in the cafes
and then, football, bets and fights
the road had its own history
but they said that it was written by kids

since Amsterdam we read the whole of the Odyssey in the street. 2 days, more than seven hours each day. It was an epic endeavour, filling our souls with the magic of the greatest storyteller ever. and we want to do it again. and we will.

Pup Argos is growing, he is older that I thought, he is nearly 5 months old. He was malnourished and parasite ridden- the contest for food at the sheep pen must have been fierce, and the other dogs look like small lions...I am gently training him, with rewards only

I've been experimenting with old tshirts, I have tons of them
encouraged by alabama chanin who uses cotton jersey

it works..I'm looking forward to making some clothes..

Birthdays came and went, I wasn't in warsaw this time. hard.

Telemaco asked me to take him to Athens so he could place a flower on the memorial for the students who were killed in an uprising against the Dictatorship on the 17th of November 1973.

Every year since 1974 there have been memorial/protest marches on that day, sometimes with very violent riots. The central slogan then, and now is bread-education-liberty.
I did take my 12 year old, because he asked to do it
we went in the morning, before the demonstrations. There were tears in my eyes the whole time we were there.
for the youths who gave their lives believing they are changing the world
for the memories of my youth. I never missed a march until I had children.

for my sons who are youths in these troubled times

and because now, so many years after the sacrifice we are still looking for ways

what was amazing is that this year there were many many families with children of all ages who went to pay tribute

time passes, and the pomegranate tree is showing off

puppies grow, dreaming of fighting with wolves

this guy was lonely, jumping fences, mooing for attention. we were harvesting olives for a neighbour, and the calf made a lot of noise until he figured out a way to come close. he had two brothers, there were three, now there is one. People around here are raising animals for food, again. Not enough time has passed to forget how it is done, the traditional way.

There were many people sleeping in the street in Athens. Workshops start and end earlier now because it is not safe to be out late.

Amsterdam

2011-11-10T18:10:00.000+02:00

I was greeted by our prime minister (the previous one, now) on a giant television outside the airport

I didn't see much of the city, only from afar, but I did see the old shipyard. got to know it a lot, walking up and down

some rehearsing, a little music, telling, meeting people

and a flag..Greece was on my mind a lot, since we are being turned inside out by political powergames

a greek question mark in one of our singing bowls

colours on walls. the grey sky seems relentless, just as I suppose our sun is to people coming from grey skied countries

language learning outside the mens rest room. looks like broken english..I know its the other way round. And, Martine, do women need telling?

bench floor patterns during nightime

swans in couples
saw a raven
and fat self satisfied seagulls
ducks, and black ones that I learnt were called coots

I didn't spend much time in Amsterdam, but I saw people, met some I'm glad to have met, hung out with members of the pack, told and listened to stories
a good trip
maybe another time I will see the city, and, who knows, a blogging friend or two....

on the road (again)

2011-11-04T02:42:00.002+02:00

in the middle of the olive harvest
done as the people of this land have been doing for thousands of years
(image from here)

I am leaving, to play for Gilgamesh and to tell the story of Odysseus in Amsterdam..

this little guy, named Argos, will be waiting for my return, keeping Luka and telemaco company. when he grows up he will look more like a lion than a lamb..he is a greek sheepdog, now little soul, psychoula, as we say

the country may be falling to pieces, or not, but these dreamers are reading our founding tale aloud in the streets of Athens, to comfort, to dream, to find a way, to not be silent, to continue

nightime storytime dreamtime

2011-10-25T20:23:00.000+03:00

This is the ultimate storycloth

unnight cloth

it holds our stories
it holds our dreams

and then it lets them go

they escape through the unstars

Luka says hello

we read a book of the Odyssey at a tea shop on Sunday. Aloud, but not too loud..for a while all was quiet, they even stopped the music.

if you are on facebook check out the group mythologue, I post explanations in English..we are organising a reading of the whole Odyssey on the street, in the centre of Athens

I found the sheet on the street, in Athens.dirty but not odious. went through the longest hottest wash twice..it is strong cotton, lovely for storycloth. I do like the moment when it is just a blank screen- it could still be anything...

october

2011-10-12T20:18:00.003+03:00

I do not know what the right path is. My mind is foggy. I envy the cypress for its certainty.
Moonrise.

a gentle slope, a young olive grove waiting for the moon to bless it
I've been making inks. Rhamnus, (persian berries), walnut, and the queen: pomegranate
my city looks like this a lot lately

September

2011-09-17T09:24:00.006+03:00

September is a bit like the new year..

saying goodbye to the summer

I went to spain for a few days to see this young man who is already taller than his dad. My son Antonio who is now living in Warsaw.

Telemaco, second son, in the blue shirt, on the first day of school. it is his last year in primary school. He is growing fast too.

I am jobhunting, reading ads for childminders. I have made some tentative efforts to actually get a job, but it seems I'm not quite decided yet..but the time is getting close, when I'll absolutely have to find a means for making money..

In the meantime I made a cloth for Leonidas, my cousins son, a cloth which actually got made! I had started a bigger one for him, but it wasn't getting finished any time soon, so i decided to make something that he could hold while still a baby.. it took about 15 hours to make.. with finishing it as the main aim

and I like it.

a little story

2011-08-16T18:23:00.002+03:00

we were eating at the fish tavern. A little girl crossed the road, wearing her swimsuit, at eleven o'clock at night and swam in the black sea, happy as a fish, or a mermaid.talking later with her mother..she told me that she is a handfull, drives her (the mum) crazy. And that she is only 4 years old. I was making sympathetic noises, secretly rejoicing in the little one's spirit. (there was a grownup with her, watching from the beach)
as I was being sympathetic, the mother went on: "and do you know what she did? she wanted to take her swimmimg aids off, and I wouldn't let her because she is too young, and the little devil BIT them off with her teeth!!"
I couldn't hold back, a loud HURRRAAAYYY was heard, right there in the fish tavern, after midnight, two nights ago.

update

2011-08-14T13:46:00.004+03:00

to all of you who read here and especially those who have left comments in the previous posts..thank you so much, your words of support give me courage and strength, they mean the world to me

we keep on getting austerity measures that are harshe and harsher, taxes piled upon taxes, and it doesn't look as if they are getting any results..

the computer is very uncooperative in the heat, it closes after loading sites and pictures, it gets overheated or just fed up..

I will visit individually, but I wanted to say a collective thank you

the japancloth is travelling with me to spain to be stitched down, and it will be presented to the Embassy in December

in between travelling:

I've made a feather for jude's feather project

I wanted it to be special, so I made the "cloth" first-pomegranate dyed crochet yarn, with a few extra strands of indigo added as an after thought
catching the shadows. It;ll go in the post on Tuesday
I learnt how to twine rags into string, and she got a head of hair, made from the mnemonic device I used while composing the tale I'm telling
and a face, and a name..meet ANNA the raglady
making a book of fabrics .. the Odyssey, part b, of course
abit like a vertical quilt- stacked layerson to the next voyage then.. see you soon!

a small chronicle in pictures

2011-08-10T12:47:00.003+03:00

hibernating blogwise-the computer seems to be in a good mood today, it let me upload the cellpics

I've been travelling, storytelling
a storytelling spot on mt.Pelion, home of the centaurs. Built by the Ottomans, used by everyone to access water

coming down from the mountain a ferry took me across
tsipouro, meze and music on Pelion, after the Odyssey. what you can't see in this picture is the sea- astounding view
the same village, on mt Pelion
this is Syros, the port of Ermoupoli, once capital of Greece
a lot of sea travel when touring in Greece
On Crete, Psiloretes, called also mt Ida, birthplace of Zeus.
rusty pump in Amari, Crete
I did tell the Odyssey here, it is in Gerakari, Crete. the best audience I've ever met.
cushions in the school at Amari, the school is not in use
a pile of saints in the same school, and a cloth in need of mending. I did consider nicking that cloth, but only for a moment
marble beast on the church at Agios Georgios, on Pelion
what is this lady doing on the wall of the church, on a mountain??
ripple weaving at sunset at Chania, Crete

turbulence in the port at Syros

what it is like

2011-07-05T22:10:00.002+03:00

so, it is like violently growing up. what is changing fast, too fast is concepts and ideas about how we live. the country, greece, is being forced to change ways of thought and everyday practice with no time for the process of realisation and adjustment.

short history: Greece became a state in the middle of the 19th century, relying heavily on the support of richer European countries for its existence. very small and very poor this country has never been out of debt since it became a modern state. On top of that for the past century and a half we have embroiled ourselves in devastating wars, even a civil war after wwII, dictatorships and political unrest. the last junta fell in 1974, i'm old enough to remember that time.

In 1975, I think, we signed the treaty for becoming part of the European union.

Long before Spain and Portugal.

Once, flying over central Europe, it was in the year 2000 i think, Iwas looking at a huge area of well ordered and bordered fields. I was going to an EU funded meeting -15 countries. I told the people there, we were eating, not working, that during my flight I realised why Greece was made a member so early..even though we are a poor country and not politically stable or "mature"..to releive the immense boredom!!!!!!!!

I realised that it was very bad manners to say something like that when I saw the looks on their faces

but I still believe its true

Greeks can be brilliant and they can be very naughty..

I hate speaking of a nation with generalisations like that, but I am speaking now of our concept about ouselves, the beliefs that constitute our national identity

pair that with : resourceful, cunning, survivors, proud fighters

and then, in the past 35 years things have changed

we weren't poor any more. the nation, I mean..

we weren't immigrating, we were a receiving country

we don't work in the fields anymore, immigrants do that

most industries closed down or moved to other countries

everyone has a mobile phone, even kids

families have two or three cars

big houses,

no one is hungry

mountain villages are empty

wages became huge compared to what they were, prices rose accordingly

the dollar became cheap..in comparison to what it was

it became tremendously easy to get loans

back to what it's like now

more and more people are out of work, and those that do have a job work for much less money and in constant fear of losing it

people like my parents have lost 80% of their income

both have worked very hard and paid their taxes and had reached a certain level of affluence, and certainly did not expect to make radical changes in their way of life at 67 and 80 yrs old

the measures the government has been forced to take seem to focus on people who have been "good"..people who cannot evade taxes ..pensioners, civil servants, teachers, doctors who work in public hospitals etc, who are paid by the government..their incomes have been practically halved

private sector jobs are becoming scarce and badly paid

enterprises of all kinds are closing

workers, builders etc don't have work because construction, public and private has stopped

and people are angry

and scared

because it feels as if the measures, harsh as they are, are ineffective

and on top of that we have to be "good" and do as we are told

because, the story goes

1. there won't be any money for salaries in 15 days

2. European economy will crash

so people are angry. they feel cheated, and humiliated. There is violence, but also solidarity. There are moments when it is very scary

as for me.. I've been on the fringe all my life anyway, no backup, and, unfortunately some debt.

holding my breath..

I think it was a good idea to get eldest son out, and wondering what to do..

have to get real resourceful quickly

now I'm still a bit numb

it seems the future, even the near future is aa big question mark

but isn't it anyway?

2011-06-29T21:03:00.002+03:00

i have been quiet blogwise-

I've been stitching words, weaving story. Diving into Homers world.

also watching, hearing, feeling the country I live in fall to pieces. times of change. me too, i'm changing- feel like a snake sloughing off my skin

letting go

started with i refuse

i refuse to live in fear

accept change and flow with it

mantras that help most of the time

so now i'm letting most of my books go -discovered freecycle- giving them to people who will read them and are happy to have them

saying goodbye to an aspect of myself that was important once, but has changed now

tons of paper are leaving this house

keeping the stories for students of storytelling until the storytelling school has a place to house them

my stories are in me now, yes, oh yes, I am full of stories, storyrich

may rhapsody

2011-05-26T19:51:00.007+03:00

people lived here
the guards at the side door of the ancient city of rhamnus used to play board games to while away the time
the main gate/entrance to the city

an anchor
some inset piecing
madness
a map of travels, weaving in stitches

as far as the eye can see
the stormcloth
it was thundering growling coming closer. A libation of wine, part of my rusty collection, a eucalyptus bark storycloth from last year. bundled just in time and left for the storm..an offering
may has been stormy
and windyI am working on word patchwork-very much pulled into the shadowy hall where the suitors eat and drink, where the beggar king watches and plans, where the boy becomes a man, where she spins the yarns of their lives faultlessly weaving and unweaving their fate

mothers day

2011-05-08T19:45:00.003+03:00

this was at my doorstep when I woke up. what it says is, of course, I love you mum.
reflections
layering waves
I'll vote for invisible baste anyday
layers of wind

this looks like the beginning of a cloth. I love hewn stones (as opposed to cut)
once more this looks like a prayer to me
striving towards the light

life comes in waves

2011-05-03T00:02:00.004+03:00

they very much wanted to go to the beach, so we went

...

the wishingcloth is progressing, I've posted some photos here. This is the backside where one special little scrap that says "we are Japan" got itself firmly basted -by mistake?- and since it so very much wants to be there, Im leaving it

Easter came and went,the boyand his dad came and went, everyone had a go at roasting, even my mum!

eastertime

2011-04-23T09:40:00.002+03:00

eastertime is hectic in this part of the world. It is the major holiday of the year, and most people go whole hog with church every day of the holy week, fasting and lamb on a spit on sunday.

Easterday is called "Lambri" which means bright, and the 40 days (49, actually) of Lent are also spring cleaning time, the village gets whitewashed, inside and out

families get together to celebrate, mostly in the countryside, and anyone with some land roasts lamb over an open fire, on a spit

in Athens it happens sometimes on the balconies..

it does seem as if the land itself is celebrating, glorious sun, flowers, grasses, trees in flower

I don't go to church, but it is not possible to ignore the surge of energy..it is wonderful, really

the son is here from Poland with his dad

with a very clear wish to do the roasting thing

so I've gone traditional (again) this year, preparing a homeric feast and tomorrow I'm lighting a fire

Telemaco went to church on tuesday and came back intrigued.."they were talking about a whore" he said..(it is the day they tell about Mary Magdalene)

bundling eggs was fun, madder and onion skins and lots of little leaves and flowers

having coffee with a friend, getting frustrated when the thread wouldn't stay where I wanted it to:

"the problem with eggs is that they are round"

"how would you want them to be?"

"rectangular and flat"

"hens would need a trapdoor.."

Back, sort of

2011-04-11T21:29:00.003+03:00

I'm back in a way..

The tent was pitched, in the middle of a huge "square" in the city of Kerkyra on the island of corfu

I haven'y had time since Thursday to upload the fotos

There were moments of bliss, the tent full of people listening, entranced, to stories

There were moments of exhaustion ..driving the van by a river in the mountains..8 hrs drive..arriving to find there was no provision for electricity(how else would the drill work? or would we be hammering into tarmac, 45 holes?) and then the police hadn't been notified so we had to stop until that got sorted out..

and then having to be there, watching, guarding, telling, cleaning rugs and pillows for 16 out of 24 hours

but it was all ok in the end,

more than ok

magic

yes, I believe in magic

moments:

storks clacking away in their treetops at dawn

a tiny bird stealing wool from a flokati rug to line its nest

the lizard that stood guard next to me for hours looking at the tent from its stone, there in the park

the children talking to the genie of the lamp, they saw it, they really did

the swallows swooping and crying to each other every morning and evening

the people from morocco and afganistan and albania who gathered in and around the tent to tell me their stories after everyone had left

Thodoris and Alekos who catered for an "official" event in the tent who fed anyone who asked for food after the mayor and the ambassadors had had their fill of couscous and hummus

the way the young men looked at the meat before making the courage to ask for some

oh the stories I heard...

on friday

2011-03-29T08:58:00.003+03:00

On friday I travel to Kerkyra, Corfu to pitch my tent. On Thursday I pick up the van and Antonia who will travel with me. today and tomorrow I wash and pound rugs, pillows and drive myself nuts

A list is what i need to make, an external keeper..instead of mentally going through that list every 3 minutes.

and accept that I can't control everything

aaaarrrrrghghghghgh

I"m pitching my tent

2011-03-25T19:55:00.004+02:00

the sun is back

I'm pitching my tent next week in Corfu

Why is it that for about two weeks it all seemed impossible, too much, overwhelming, difficult,

and today it is possible, beautiful, challenging
maybe because spring is here
maybe because time heals
flowers look to me as if they are praying.this year
we had national independence day today. And I live in a real village. we even have a village fool.he is, of course, the gravedigger.I was thinking about identity. and myth. and the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and why. and how they are untouchable, sometimes.

blog for the japancloth

2011-03-22T16:08:00.002+02:00

I have opened a new blog to document the wishing/prayercloth for the people of japan project, here: wishingcloth

mythcolour will still be the personal blog

I've reposted the relevant posts from here, and there is an update from the storytelling event.

there is a moment, when someone is thinking about what to write that what is going on is nearly visible- a vortex of stillness and silence is created about that person, and the concentration is palpable.

I am not a religious person in any conventional way, but this I believe in. I can see it happening, and I can feel it in the thumping of my heart in my chest.

Yes, it is a kind of mending.

it makes tears come to my eyes and a smile on my face. it is good.

japancloth

2011-03-18T08:21:00.002+02:00

had a sleeping think

no rules for colour.. the idea is to use what we have

scraps with wishes

I have a little pile, and I'm off to Athens with the loom in my bag

lets see if I can collect a few wishes at the coffee shop where I have a business meeting

the cloth for the people

2011-03-17T16:44:00.003+02:00

So this is the practical side

I'm proposing to make a cloth of woven "wishes" or prayers written on scraps and pieces of cloth

I will gather these scraps on little looms I am going to set up at storytelling events beginning on Sunday 20th March which is world storytelling day which this year has the theme of WATER. Our event here in Greece will be dedicated to the people of Japan.

The little looms will be set up at a quiet spot with a basket of scraps and an indelible pen. Anyone who wants to can write a wish on a scrap and weave it into the loom. it will be a quiet moment of breathing in and out..a small dedicated doing. A prayer if you wish.

I will gather the little cloths and stitch them together into a larger one, respectfully paying homage to the japanese tradition of "boro" the study of which has nurtured my soul these past few months

I am open to ideas about what to do with the resulting cloth..even only symbolically I am thinking of ways to offer it to the people of japan

I have made this proposal known to other storytellers at the world storytelling day mailing list, and have received a few mails indicating interest in taking part in this project. I thank you.

for anyone interested in making a scrap woven cloth and/or sending a scrap to be patched onto the larger cloth I would be happy to receive them at

pobox66

marathon 19007

attica

Greece

to make a simple frame loom you only need a frame which could be anything strong enough..a shoebox, a tray, a basket, (see pictures)

you can tie strips of cloth to make the warp or use string

the wish scraps are woven "under over" these warps

I propose we use indigo or blue cloth, also white is ok because I can dye them in my indigo vat

it is the colour of the sea, and the varied tones will make a beautiful cloth

please, If you are going to send wishes, it would be better for the stitching if they are from natural fibers(cotton, linen) and not too stiff

I wish to say that this idea has evolved from the "ferment"of ideas shared in the classes by jude hill and the lively exchanges in online conversations with clothmates.

for an idea of what boro is, an introduction, see here and click boro on the sidebar

I will post again about this later

any ideas and comments are welcome

it clicked

2011-03-16T23:20:00.003+02:00

will be posting more..just at the jotting down stage, but I want to document thoughts on an idea

on Sunday is World Storytelling Day, and we're organising an event at the museum of ceramic art, where the lessons of the school of storytelling take place

this year the theme is water. I am going to tell of a storyteller telling tales unceasingly to the ocean which listens, dreaming, quiet. No one knows what the ocean will do if the storyteller falls silent..

this, according to Jean-Claude Carriere is an ancient persian legend

I heard it for the first time in Cadiz, Spain, facing the Atlantic ocean

I told it for the first time on the day the tsunami hit indonesia

it is time to tell it again.

I will also set up a little frame loom and place beside it scraps of indigo cloth and pens, so anyone that wants to can write a wish or a prayer and weave it into the loom to make a cloth

create a moment of silence, of breathing in and out and making a wish of love for the people hurt by the tsunami, the world that needs mending

thinking of the cranes for Hiroshima

I have only just sent a first message to other tellers organising events these days for world storytelling day telling about this idea and already I have a first response from far away

the idea is to gather these scraps and patch them together into a comfort cloth

and find a way to send it give it to japan

(this part needs some working out- maybe the embassy once things start rolling)

and to activate mythologue, the open meeting of storytellers who got together and told stories in Athens after three people were killed in a fire during protests

and organise a mythologue event, and make more wishing prayer cloths

and ceremonies of mending

and at schools and in the tent

and anyone who feels like it can send a prayer scrap, or a cloth of scraps for the cloth

i think blue, indigo is the colour

what do you think?

all the preocupation with boro is maybe bearing fruit

ah yes, today I received news that the attikasos reforestation is finally going to take place..

will talk more.

people travel

2011-03-12T00:36:00.003+02:00

an ordinary day on a tiny island

2011-03-11T08:20:00.002+02:00

Iwas in the desert and I came back to snow. now the sun is out and spring is here. we had a pocket size winter!

the sun has taken its rightful place on the babycloth, along with beasties and beings.

now to get the pins out

in the rain

2011-03-03T10:25:00.005+02:00

little things and big things sometimes the littlest are the biggest

still raining

the spaced concept in decoration

grey and cold

i'm off for a few days to a desert land

on a whim of my mothers

telemaco's heart cloth

a treasure, all by himself

you can see the intent

a border

2011-02-25T08:56:00.004+02:00

when does repetition stop being repetition and turns into something else?

sorry about the quality of the fotos, it has been raining for days

and it is quite dark..

ziggy

2011-02-23T18:06:00.004+02:00

the super raglady has a companion. meet ziggy the starman. they have been through a spin in the washing machine with jeans, and nothing fell off!
backsides
window dreaming. I will give them eyes, now
freeform collage stitching-a cut as you stitch head. the lower part turned under, the ears ragged.
a lion kitten for Leonidas, recent addition to our family.
spaced out star..made to see how colourfast old old silk sewing thread I bought cheap is. washed ok except for the golden yellow
and against the window..giving me ideas for curtains
small smaller smallest loom..about a third of my nail

feb 15

2011-02-15T09:05:00.004+02:00

hey, Catherine

heart hug

thank you jude

a basket of fish

2011-02-09T11:16:00.004+02:00

weavings
fin fringe
fish
another
all the fish in the basket

I've decided to actually finish something, so I sidetracked to a pencil case for my son, finished.

and a fish sampler of shapes in and on weaving, from jude's online class "contemporary woven boro"

I'm certainly going to do more of both, I'm learning what works and what doesn't.

too busy to write

2011-01-27T18:45:00.004+02:00

seams again

2011-01-22T19:01:00.002+02:00

I like taking pictures at dawn
elvira. she loves to pose-diva elvira. she is 7 and a half years old (for Penny)
seam's edges on the inside
and on the outside

seamingII

2011-01-19T20:25:00.004+02:00

making a borobag backpack with pieces of clothes, leftovers from ragdoll koutsouna making. some woven, initially with no base, very loose, moves around a lot until they find their place. all very loosely basted onto a sheet, then a "stretchy" piece of skirt, it is the stitching that holds it together, uncountable layers at the seams

lines and lines of stitching are making a very sturdy cloth

I tried to traverse the whole bag with lines at right angles, felt very much like weaving (with some diversions for fun, little winding paths, turning around on themselves)

the pins were in only for a moment, to hold the final seams

generally I like basting layers with thread to hold them together letting them move around until they are stitched down

it makes my left hand, the holding one take up an active role of energetically feeling the cloth as it comes together

the joining seams were very thick, the pins were under tension, I could almost hear the cloth sigh as they were pulled out

this is what I'm doing in anticipation of the start of jude's contemporary woven boro online class

I think it actually began sometime last year when I found her blog, spiritcloth

just another morning

2011-01-08T09:50:00.005+02:00

the sun shines in my eastern window. i've hung graces cloth there, my eyes feast on it, admiring. ideas are coming about how to turn it into a storytelling cloth, but not the story. not yet. just enjoying, and wondering at the beauty of the cloth and the gesture. it makes me happy.this is another gift. took he picture because I liked the way it looked all jumbled up. woven from our native coarse wool, here in the village, must be very old- it was made by the grandmother of someone who is a grandmother herself.

did a little piecing experiment:

picked three scraps from ever expanding scrap bag

rules:

no waste, use it all up, cut after making the seam. it helped that one was a strip.

started with no plan or measurement

like it so much i've been carrying it around in my pocket for a few days

medusa the gorgon in the making

want her to be terrifying

but still to be able to receive a tender glance

layered charm
it has me thinking of a double sided cloth with all the layers visible at the seamsthe family are safely back home, the little one is safely here, his brother and father are safely back in Warsaw, and I am here, blessed.

Bless you all this new year, may the light shine through all clouds and worries.

my cup runneth over

2010-12-30T14:04:00.005+02:00

magic of telling

it is my riches

telling under trees..paradise (looking through this years photos)

there is a family staying with me. a completely non dysfunctional family. we are not related by blood, they speak a different language, there is a cultural affinity - they are a balkanic family, neighbours now, 200 years ago there were no borders between our countries. then there were borders, cutting off families, regions, pastures, deadly borders guarded by killer dogs and men with killing weapons

now we are both in the shengen agreement and they are free to travel

it is a long story

first the men came, workers, labourers,legal, illegal, crossing mountains on foot, coming from hunger to..where?the promised land of imagination

what did they find?

what did they leave behind

long story, I 've already said that huh?

now the families left behind are coming and seeing where their men were all these years, they see the places and the people they had only heard about, imagination is meeting reality (one kind, at least)

what are they seeing?

what will they take back home?

long stories

stories in the making

life

she is a doer

she cooks, cleans,washes, cleans, cooks, she takes care of them all

pitta from scratch, at least once a week she says, (when I say from scratch I mean from the gathering of dandelions and other weeds) there were quince in my fridge, waiting..(for what I don't know) now they are marmelade
there are lots of smiles, there is a lot of talking, and laughing, and the doing is done. just like that. soul searching at a minimum. It is a priviledge to be part of this, to see, observe, be, do in this company. mmm, and the food is good.
carols on Christmas Eve, a tradition. (ok since we're on the subject, 2nd generation immigrant..) children bring joy and luck to the household..the natives don't usually venture as far as here, remember, we are on the wild side..
the star, finished, travelled to spain, to my far away stars, first son and his dad. these are on sale.. waiting for the crisis to blow over most likely
for anyone interested in the subject of borders this is a book I strongly recommend.. A Short Border Handbook by Gazmend Kapllani

star

2010-12-18T01:31:00.003+02:00

this has been in my mind since the stars a few posts ago..have you heard the story where the girl has married the moon and she goes to his house in the sky? there is a wide plain, and there are lots of people kneeling with their bottoms sticking up and their heads in the ground. later in the story she taps on one persons shoulder and he lifts his head. in the ground there is a hole, and she sees the earth and her place. when the being turns around and looks at her, she sees that he has only one huge eye in the middle of his forehead.. he is a star

off to bed, long day tomorrow, solstice storytelling begins. I'll post about that, I promise..

new

2010-12-17T10:01:00.004+02:00

luka cat dog

her foot is on the big mythology book that serves as a table sometimes

yesterday I stitched all day, started 3 little cloths. The pictures are terrible, but I can't find the charger for the camera.

after watching jude's videos "making" discipline went down the drain. I had to get these out of my system

this is a the literal one.. a landscape

a ship on a winters night

and the holy wild cow womanstaring at the bases took much longer than the actual stitching

and there is some digesting to be done

and now, some housework

we are reaching the b.c. era- before civilisation

the solstice, 1

2010-12-16T10:17:00.003+02:00

from 2007, a story...here

that is me on "living on earth" a radio program that airs in the USA.. I was in a radio studio in Greece, and they connected through internet phone

sweatpea..not a video, but close

(the photo is from 1996..)

like bees, this buzzing

2010-12-15T15:01:00.003+02:00

this is athens today, from italian newspaper la repubblica, click here to see a live video from constitution square. General strike, no cars, riot police with the pidgeons guarding..what? our democracy? from whom? voters??

hard times

the link doesn't work any more, there were riots, molotov cocktails and tear gas, because of the strike I've been reading the foreign papers

winter, heroes, containers and the galaxy

2010-12-15T13:50:00.006+02:00

envelope pouches, all plant dyed cloth
from clothes

weekend work- had to drive through this, ice at night, to go to tell stories and come back at night
the insides, sometimes a lizard hides in there
the outsides
little onesthoughts:

-why is the eye of the storm called an eye? from aerial pictures and because of the silence I would think it is an ear

-knitted cloth makes me swear. only the colours are fun

-it can take days to make one tiny pouch, and a few can be made in a day. this is not a paradox.

-making arroz con leche can connect you to the galaxy if you speak greek. rizogalo-rice and milk-gala=milk=galaxy. boys believe mothers are for making warm sweet milky things. maybe we are put on earth for that purpose.

-it is 4C outside. no central heating. fireplace night tonight.

-some people are heroes, they spend their life grumbling. (bus driver complaining today - well it was raining, and yes, when you go up a mountain there are lots of turns, villages tend to have not very wide roads, but mr... there are roads, they are better than passable, and your work is taking people places, no? and we have made this huge space for you to park and turn comfortably, and we brew coffee for you drivers, but, life has to be difficult, otherwise you wouldn't be a hero, huh?)

-children always ask me if goblins exist. I always say they do. our world is multi dimensional, and deep inside we all know that. that is why stories are true.

-seeing how wide their eyes get and their chins falling is priceless.

-Luka dog is a cat dog. when the fire is lit she wants to sit inside the fireplace. me too.

gathering,making, thoughts

2010-12-09T22:13:00.002+02:00

the repairs on the car were far more expensive than the economy of this crisis hit storyteller could absorb, so said storyteller decided to make things and sell in a small bazaar type market

it was a bit like a whatif, as in whatif I do it and see what it's like

it has turned out to be a huge whatif, pushing me to think and do

I started by making little pouches from clothes I use in the koutsouna dollmaking with children

I'm very quickly learning about different weaves, knits, yarns etc and their conduct when forced or coaxed to interact with each other

at the same time I'm learning about design, making decisions, and about which aspect of making is more interesting to me and what gives me most pleasure.

and, of course, about discipline, focus, and organisation

I can't, in this context, follow all the ideas that come to me while considering a piece just to see what it will become

so, for the first time i made a "thought catching" journal, and it is becoming very important

also, at every step, I see the need to simplify and be effective

also how to plan realistically about how much time I need for each item
i do like what I'm making, but not as much as how it is teaching me about myself, about cloth, about reality

when I looked at one of the little pouches I made and realised that I found it cute, intelligent, but a bit "far away" I had a rethink

and it dawned on me that I do have lovely cloths that are unique and precious.

so out came the boxes of dyed pieces of sheets, pillowcases and canvas that had been resting in the dark

they were washed to become softer, hung in glorious sunlight to be blessed
I must admit i really enjoy lookingat, smelling and feeling this cloth
everything became much simpler. the design is a simple lined envelope pouch which folds upon itself. I'll show you tomorrow, I don't have daylight pictures. they are quick to make, and my heart sings when I look at them and when I hold them.

these are examples of the other style, I do like them, but they need a lot done to them, many desisions taken to get them to a state where they will satisfy me.

they say it will snow tomorrow so I went on small gathering expedition, to meet the short autumn

one of the best things that have come out of the market adventure is that I reorganised a part of my room to let the light in and become a working space. now, when my glance goes that way, for some reason it makes me think of Grace. maybe it is the colours and the cacti and what i think new mexico is like..it is a weird time, fluctuating, changing, i can't quite describe in words

i think I am moving more firmly on this path that opened with listening to the flowers talk

but it feels like a cusp, a moment when all directions are open

maybe life is like that anyway

and magic is always here

grace, grace of windthread is sending me a cloth that she found in a thrift shop, a cloth that made my heart bump when I first saw it in a post

and it is coming from socorro

I think these are practising how to look like flowers

sky

2010-11-30T08:23:00.003+02:00

sunrise
gulls. they come inland when the sea is too rough. that's what the fishermen say.they make the wind visible

the cemetery is the border between civilised and wild, for the village. I live on the other side.
soft and fluffy. I gathered as much as I could find. Not sheep, I think it is sheepdog down.must be moulting because of the heat.
the house I live in is the one on the left. The view is south-east, towards Marathon.
these are proliferating-cheeky little ...nodding their heads in the wind with their tongues out.I've decided(it is a bit like a what if) to take part in a christmas market, Im busy making fishy pouches from clothes and scraps

the car burst its radiator so I get to walk to my sons school school. Great!

this is not a fish

2010-11-25T13:47:00.003+02:00

taking his meal to my son in school today I saw a tree going on a rideI've been working hard since I returned, but yesterday the sun was streaming through the window so I lay down on the bed to take a break and enjoy it. Yesterday the phone company gave me a new cell phone (to keep me as a customer for one more year) and I chose one with a strong camera. I was thinking of making a pouch for it. Lying in the sunlight I was thinking about being selfish and what a good thing it is, taking time to enjoy..

and when the pun appeared in my mind I couldn't resist...
I made a cellfishlate at night, taking another break from texts, translations, editing, I visited graces blog, windthread, and saw a yellow fish!

grace, thanks for the comment, now starfish are swimming in my daydreams

stars

2010-11-21T18:51:00.004+02:00

I had time on my hands, visited various blogs, saw this and this, couldn't silence the sparks they set alight..started these

sorry about the photos with flash, it gets dark early here in Warsaw.
tomorrow I'll be travelling home

birthdays

2010-11-18T09:53:00.002+02:00

hard to believe this guy popped out of me 14 years ago and made me a mother
he is already taller than I am, living with his dad and getting an education. I am so proud of him!

we are in Warsaw, visiting. Grey skies, fantastic nude trees reaching up, piercing the low clouds.

it is my birthday today, 45. I feel I am carrying many me's inside of me, all glad to be here.

colours

2010-11-14T10:30:00.002+02:00

grey, yes, screams for colour. I washed some of my summer dyed cloths, tore bits, layered rags and now I'm practising stitching Round and roundand I finished(yes, finished!)two pouches, the blackbird for my brother and swinging my arms.

practising buttonhole edging, getting better by the stitch

it is much too hot for the time of year, the trees are undecided about how to deal with it. some think it is spring, new leaves, flowers etc, some are tentativeley changing colour. the mulberries are still in full green leaf, anemones are dotting the grasses, lilacs think it is eastertime, some plants have flowered four times this year. And the olives are on strike for the third or fourth year in a row.

cotton sheets and rags. indigo, cochineal bought a while ago in a quest for red, black eyed susan and mixes

grey

2010-10-18T12:19:00.002+03:00

there is a mountain hidden there..
I think I will study grey today

a story about love and a way

2010-10-13T22:20:00.003+03:00

I was making weavings on framelooms, then it was spring and I started thinking about colour on yarn, from flowers, searched the internet for natural dyes, started dyeing, weaving took too long to make trial cloths for dyeing, started felting, natural colours of sheep too beautiful, started tearing up sheets for cloth, found india , ended up with piles of scraps, found jude, started stitching, now we are back to weaving, it is a spiral, not a circle, weaving now is in everything I do, along with stitching and felting and dyeing, and looking at the world with new eyes every day, with wonder and joy, I am so grateful

foggy

2010-10-13T17:15:00.005+03:00

but thread, cloth, weaving.. sewing with thread, weaving sewn cloth, stitching woven threads, stars in the sky, waves on the beach, trees in a forest
and a hare that jumped on to my woven?stitched? cloth

the road weaving the fogcloth
weaving for protection
this is a woven sack that sits in the bread room in the folklore museum in Varnavas, the wool is very coarse, must be goat hair, I am wondering what it was dyed with. Probably chemical dyes that were sold by wandering merchants- the lore of dyeing from plants is lost to living memory, unfortunately, the best I've heard was "oh yes, my grandmother used a yellow flower.."

foggy warm humid

african dust turned mud all over everything

still in transition

something is coming

maybe it will appear in the fog, where everything is possible

I've been cleaning..and look what I found in my brothers loo

2010-10-06T14:10:00.003+03:00

we swim every day

I've been doing some serious cleaning, and I must say that it is never as bad as you think it will be, there in the deepest recesses of forgotten storage spaces

I did a practice cloth, an etude on finishing

whatiffing piecing a woven cloth

and trying out different stitches

doodling of course, beginning with a line

and another one with a house on a hill, still deciding where it is going to rest

I really like scrunching up scraps and stitching them down

it must be moulting season for seagulls, I have gathered lots of feathers

maybe I will make a cape and learn to fly

swinging my arms

2010-09-21T19:32:00.002+03:00

In Warsaw, walking, I remembered what fun it is to swing your arms as you go along. I piled scraps and "married" them, just to feel the thickness- then, all through my train and plane travels I stitched and stiched, in a "lets see what will happen if.." manner. now it is a hard cloth, sturdy, I think, but I don't like it very much.. all colours are from plants, even the threads, and I don't agree with it anymore..but it is definitely a learning piece, it will become a pouch-bag thingy when I decide which way is up!!

the light is changing, nights are cooler

and we still go for a swim every now and then

return

2010-09-17T21:26:00.002+03:00

she is my treelady, I think, summer evening

autumn beach in greeceWhitby beach
a moor artist
bits and pieces left behind on foreign beaches

I'm trying to return from gilgameshland

and all those summer travels

change and fluidity- need time to settle, all I do is clean in spurts and cook for little one

where I'm going next

2010-09-03T14:01:00.001+03:00

Gilgamesh by Ben Haggarty, with Manya Maratou

7th September Soho Theatre, London 8pm

9th September Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough 7.45pm

11th September York Theatre Royal 7.45pm

This ultimate quest story, of a bored tyrant ruling a city so beautiful that even the Gods choose to make it their home, makes for a beguiling exploration into the nature of power; the search for eternal life; the threat of apocalypse, and the deepest secrets of the gods.

Gilgamesh, journeys through a vivid metaphorical landscape of pride, love, retribution and grief, where deities are irritated and appeased by turn, insults are freely traded and where our anti-hero turned hero, discovers what it really is to be a man.

Over 3,500 years after this ancient Sumerian epic was first outlined on stone tablets, storyteller Ben Haggarty and Greek percussionist and Ney play Manya Maratou, bring Gilgamesh to the stage in an extraordinary and powerful performance of one of the oldest stories in the world - packed with passion and quick-witted humour.

unsuitable for under 14s

Soho Theatre, Dean Street, London: 0207 478 0100 Tickets £8 (£6)

Stephen Joseph Theatre: 01723 370 541 www.sjt.uk.com Tickets £14 (£12)

York Theatre Royal: 01904 623 568 www.yorktheatreroyal.co.uk Tickets £12 (£10 & £7)

a time travelling machine, the resourceful dyer and some perks of life in Warsaw

2010-08-28T21:46:00.006+03:00

this is a time travelling machine. an old coffeepot which used to brew my coffee many many years ago. Since before I had any children. it is the pot that taught me to drink the coffee I drink now. It has accompanied me on travels, making coffee anywhere, and what makes it a time travelling machine is
1. the unique taste of the coffee it makes-instant memories
2. it's blackened aspect. it wasn't always black, it became so on an island brewing coffee on an open fire of twigs. (1993)lighting that fire and making coffee there is one of my fondest memories. It gave off the smell of the twig fire for years afterwards, every time it was placed on a heat source, transferring me instantly to that island. Now I only have to look at it.
3. once, in 2002, we were snowed in the house which is now my home, electricity was cut off, the coffeepot became our hero once more by doing its thing on an open fire, in the fireplace..nothing like a cup of good, hot, strong coffee when you're snowed in with a 2 year old and a five year old and no heating......
a whole chapter of my life evolved with that coffee pot in its centre, jose has it because it always was his, but I'm pleased to meet it again and taste its coffee. But in small doses nowadays.
my son picked this piece of tree from the sidewalk and gave it to me. after looking at it and its beautiful galls for a couple of days I bundled it up in one of the cloths I have with me- one of my first bundling experiments, there are faint eucalyptus prints on it. I tied it all around a piece of copper I found lying on the sidewalk. I didn't want to compromise the family's cooking pots, so I put it in an asparagus jar with water and a lid and then did a bain marie- I let it simmer for a while, it got hot. when it cooled, I took it out of the water (there were a few drops of wine, dregs, dripped on the cloth before tying) and now it is staying moist in a plastic shopping bag. I'll let it dry and open it before I leave next week.
this is a textile I saw in an art gallery window.

there are many bears in warsaw. friendly bears.

I;ve wanted to make one of these ever since I saw the stars jude makes. I think I have seamitis- or is it a love affair?

a queens dress, from the museum of mankind. yes, it is full-body and all pieced. yes, it has been making appearances in my dreams

this is what became of the pieced cloth in my previous post.
many stitches have been stitched here in warsaw
and I've been catching up on sleep- the temperature is right

warsaw and prints

2010-08-23T14:22:00.003+03:00

I am in Warsaw with the spaniards, that is my boys and their father. Eldest son is moving here to go to school. It is beautiful and sunny (for the time being, anyway) and the parks are stupendous'Sunday morning Chopin concert was fabulous.
this is what came out of a pot left for a week, I sneak peeked and opened it before leaving, and now it is going to stay here. I´ve torn and bundled all my white sheets and pillowcases, and they are simmering in the sun in pots and jars, bundled with metals and leaves. looks promising...

the cloth in the top photo was pieced and then cut into moebius strips and is slowly turning into a strip' what do you call it bias strip ? I'll show you when it's done

a company of dreamers

2010-08-21T00:25:00.003+03:00

more than 10 hours on the ferry to Lemnos. We were a company of 13 people, travelling to tell stories

to children in villages

rocks, sea and sky on the site of the Kabeiroi, demons of fire and craftsmanship

thats me in the second picture, it's not an insulting gesture, just the second time the little rooster ate someone up in the story

look at the word on the little persons tshirt

.....

heart and absence

2010-08-16T10:31:00.003+03:00

My heart has adopted every shape; it has become a pasture for a gazelles, and a convent for Christian monks.

A temple for idols, and a pilgrim's Ka'ba, The tables of a Torah, and the pages of a Koran.
I follow the religion of Love; wherever Love's camels turn, there Love is my religion and faith.

Ibn Arabi

piercing like the flight of the hawk

Love is my religion

Ωραιο χελιδονι μου πουθ' ερχεσαι και φτανεις ποια θαλασσα σε βγαζει με τουτον τον καλο καιρο; Εχεις ασπρο το στηθος εχεις μαυρα τα φτερα χρωμα θαλασσας στη ραχη λιγο την ουρα ανοιχτη Ρωτησα για τη μανα μου την πολυαγαπημενη τοσο καιρο με περιμενει τοσο εχει να με δει

Ρωτησα για τον κυρη μου κι ολη τη γειτονια και αν ειχες ομιλια ποσα θα χες να μου πεις Καθομαι μπρος στη θαλασσα παντα σενανε κοιτω λιγο γερνεις καστβαινεις λιγο αγγιζεις το νερο Μα συ τιποτα δε λες για ολ αυτα που σε ρωτω λιγο γερνεις, κατεβαινεις λιγο αγγιζεις το νερο

my beautiful swallow, where do you come from, where do you go

which sea brings you with this good weather

your breast is white, your feathers are black,

the colour of the sea on your back, your tail is forked

I asked my beloved mother, how long since she's seen me

so long waiting for me, waiting to see me

I asked my father and the whole neighbourhood

if you could speak, how much you would tell me

I sit before the sea. I look at you, you swoop a little, you come down a little, you touch the water.

But you never say anything about what I'm asking you, you swoop a little, you come down a little, you touch the water.

song from the Greek speaking peoples of Calabria

heat and absence

2010-08-14T21:24:00.005+03:00

so it happens that I am alone at home for three days. A true holiday, a difference. Also, there is a heatwave. 40C in the shade. limiting movement, and food, and sleep.

so how to fill absence in a heatwave?

reflecting, sweating, musing, watering, myself, plants, myself.

the vat is at its happiest

stitching is ok, especially if I don't get too fussy

at night I play around with positioning cloths

basting sometimes

made a little blue ridinghood with the cutouts from beachcloth and sea cloth. I think I'll give her a pink madder wolf.

cat, owl, fish is an applique sampler

fun

oh yes, dyeing cloths

sort of madly dyeing- there's nothing like a heatwave to bless pots

also preparing bundles, because a longer absence is in the near future, the best recipe to leave them alone

I surprised a gecko in a bag of leaves

I live with colonies of them, they are vociferous and entertaining

and they eat moths, mosquitoes etc

say hello to grace, mr gecko

the window is from kythera, a seaming window

you can see more of my dyeing on flikr, there on the right

to kythera

2010-08-06T07:53:00.002+03:00

the birthland of Aphrodite.

I'll be taking with me:

my rostom storycloth, and some instruments

bag of scraps and threads and needles

swimsuit

maybe a sleeping bag- 6 and a half hours on the ship from Pireus

I'll be back on Monday

back from Arcadia

2010-08-03T08:27:00.004+03:00

mountain villages. Storytelling at dawn, watching the mountains float with the new light, the world being born again. my workshop this year was about the mythic image, metaphor, abstraction. Illustrated by the koutsouna ladies.

"what is in your hand?"

"a boat without sails"

it was half an empty walnut shell.

storytelling, no?

a memory of last year's workshop overwintering in the forest.

and stitching dots, making a cloth out of bundled scraps.

food for the soul.

storytelling

2010-07-30T10:34:00.000+03:00

the connection- take a look at this

off again

2010-07-30T07:56:00.002+03:00

he wandered off

then followed me back to the village where his owner was looking for him

I'm wandering off to Vytina in Arkadia

to tell stories,

say hello to the trees,

the mountains,

and a few friends

seeya

seaming

2010-07-27T09:25:00.003+03:00

yesterdays storm was impressive

a puzzle-FUN

once I was commenting to a friend about my messy home, telling her that my mother says I could do with some obsessive compulsion

and she said that of course I am obsessive-compulsive, a musician who has practised scales for hours daily can't not be...

and she set me free!

since then I have been happily exploring that side of me, making things with no guilt, things that need extra care, and lots of small repetitive actions,

I was able to recognise that getting things "just so" can have different forms

sorting out intersections of seams and cutting up after to make more intersections can be very enjoyable

and I love the "deconstructed- reconstructed" result, yes it can lead me somewhere,

all my thanks to jude hill for her online classes, and the "patchwork beasts", for being a generous and gentle guide into totally unknown territory

the house is still a mess, clothes, cloths, scraps all in piles !

maybe a storm inside would do the job

summer

2010-07-26T12:35:00.002+03:00

one of my favourite sretches of road
loud voice

the crack of dawn
sandplant
this happened during the night, I opened my eyes to ittwo nights on the beach in kea, heatwave, storytelling, catching up with friends from the north, head filled with cicada song, making a beachcloth, cutting, sewing, cutting, sewing, swimming at night, swimming at dawn, moon filling the sea with stars, sun setting it afire, sinking myself in stars and fire, now it is thundering. stormclouds in the sky. home.

in and out

2010-07-23T07:44:00.005+03:00

madder+sumac leaves+a pinch of alum, next is madder+rusty nails, pomegranate rinds all on dmc cotton yarn in solar pots, simmered a short while and left for a week
a seam apocalypse
madder +iron on the brownish, the other is cochineal. I'll let them cure awhile
I'm in and out, telling stories here and there

the needle is dancing in and out learning new dance moves

things are jumping in and out of pots

(its good when I'm away because I can't poke them)

blogger is in and out, making it difficult to answer comments and see other blogs

thank you so much for your comments.

back

2010-07-09T21:03:00.002+03:00

i spent some time stitching on this trip
a bit like love letters
the storycloth needed a dreamer to get it started again
and here it is: first panel, the first adventure of the hunterthree panels in all, I think the other two will have more images, this is enough for the beginning. they will be oiled with linseed oil, and lit from behind

i'm off, for a while

2010-06-29T00:42:00.002+03:00

I'm going to Wales tomorrow to participate in this

meet friends, play the ney and zarb for Ben Haggarty's telling of the epic of Gilgamesh, tell stories, hear lots of stories, meet up with plant and stone acquaintances

be back in about a week

colours

2010-06-26T13:50:00.003+03:00

the camera inertprets colours.

the green skein in the bottom picture is cotton for lace(?) dmc no 60, dyed in a mix of various rhamnus berry dyebaths, simmered and left in the sun, where they fermented happily and smellily, in the company of a small piece of rusty iron.

the same skein, in the picture above it, with stronger light from the sun. maybe it it foretelling poor lightfastness.

the same skein in the top picture, lower right looks beige (!) in the company of indigo blues, which in their turn look quite washed out and grey......

on my monitor, the last foto is truer, and the little skein is eucalyptus.

the beginning colour of the cotton is ecru

I'm getting more cotton to leave in the pomegranate and madder

sea and sky

2010-06-25T23:44:00.004+03:00

we went to the sea today, there was no one swimming, too cold. End of June, in Greece! I stitched some, and took photos. Telemaco went in the water, I put a jacket on..

all colours (on the cloths and threads) are from plants, with some help from rusty nails and little bacteria, except for the heart- I haven't gotten round to dyeing threads with madder yet

artificial light in the top two pictures, the beach scenes are from the cellphone

conversations

2010-06-23T08:57:00.003+03:00

once upon a time there was a hunter

the beginning of a new illustrated storycloth

I am experimenting with indigo

and I keep reminding myself, just to give me courage, of the trials of learning how to make bread from books

It took me about a year to get the hang of it, and quite a few bricks were produced in the meantime

so maybe the lesson I learnt then was patience and to keep going

fermentation is so much like a blessing, when you finally get it

and it always seems to be a little outside of you

you can't really control it, just try to provide the right environment

like parenting, or art

and lots of prayers to the weather gods

oh yes and preparation

the corner you see there is Helen Melvin's the colours of sea and sky, a great companion on this path. thanks, Helen

fun and work

2010-06-10T09:14:00.002+03:00

we went to the sea, and washed two sacks of fleeces. They were incredibly dirty. abeetle came to investigate, some horseflies too, ugly bites, those.

and I made a pincushion- I need it, with all the sewing I've been doing!

and a snake left me a gift.

sky, wind, meetings with remarkable men,

2010-06-09T10:11:00.003+03:00

when I was young, I played the darbukka for a saz player

heard koroglu at dawn, with the light shining through leaves

took ney lessons in istanbul from the gentle arif

met and had the honour to listen to Djamchid Chemirani teach
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here with his beautiful sons

and bathe in his smile

now I am at last tapping the same deep well, the ashik spirit, the dervish soul

as a woman,

it is there, deep, quiet, breathing, singing,beating, shining in the sky, in the dark of night

a poem

2010-06-08T11:29:00.002+03:00

...es sind/ noch Lieder zu singen jenseits/ der Menschen

-Paul Celan

In the threadbare

air, through the tattered

weave of leaves,

the blue light cools

into ash black shadow

Tree: the high

thought roots itself

in the luminous clay

of the caught light's closeness

to audibility

So we know that again

today, there are songs

still to be sung. they

exist. Just on the other

side of mankind.

from Pieces of Map, Pieces of Music

by Robert Bringhurst

philemon and baucis

2010-06-08T07:31:00.003+03:00

the treecloth I've been making for jude hill's cloth to cloth online workshop, backsidetrunk and beginning of roots, up close
all components secured, cloth washed. All fabrics have been dyed by plants from this area. After I washed it I saw the face on the trunk, but the embellishing will come later. It has been so satisfying to make, and magical, really. It is full of stories. I see the olive tree of this land, after the fire, is she praying, or is she dancing? I think a beetle will keep her company, a little lizard and a scops owl,

this is the olive tree which lives next to the houseand this was a fragrant home for a family

today we sre going to the sea to wash the fleeces

doobeedoowahhhh

2010-06-01T09:49:00.002+03:00

a mood

todays mood

there are clouds in the sky

warm breeze

and I listen to the weaving going on between the guitar and bass

the quality of the sound is like the pictures in the video

slightly out of focus

as if silk gauze has been stitched over it

a new cloth is soaking in soyamilk

summer and change are here

this new cloth is not going to be like the previous one

no pictorial representation, just leaves and shadows, a dreamscape for a story

this will be painted on, scrolling with a light behind it

when it makes me some money I'll do it again with linen and leafprints

with new project I have to get a "proper"one out of my system,

and then I can go wild so now that I have a "proper"storycloth, with pictures in boxes, now I can do the singing one. the chanting one is waiting for its turn

the blank canvas moment is my favourite

lets see what story will be born of this mood

grace set the mood this morning with the story. thank you grace

the eye of the storm

2010-05-23T23:07:00.004+03:00

the country is going to the dogs

I've had hardly any paying work since autumn

I'm busy organising gigs, workshops, anything, at any price. All municipal money for culture has been frozen, by the government

sometimes I am paralyzed by anxiety

mostly I make do

but, in the midst of all this and more

I'm having fun. and much more than fun

collecting fleeces

making and undoing bundles

and

the cloth to cloth online course by jude hill

plantdyed silk on cotton

If I put an eye in there it will be a storm

a spidersweb

a sun

a dreamplace

it is waiting do become

canvas

doodlepad

as is

he he sons clothes slowly turning into drawstring bag
a beginning

and some more which are beginnings of beginnings, sparks of ideas searching for their shape

no more words, I will sleep, and dream, and weave

fleeces

2010-05-23T00:23:00.003+03:00

I have to catch the wool before they trample them into the manure and straw. the conditions are rather primitive, I'm not sure they are hygenic. Probably the sun does all the good work
the colours are fantastic, or will be after I wash them. all the white bits are grey this year, it is charcoal

the pens are outdoors, of course, under standing burnt pine trees

they throw these fleeces away.
I see rugs, bags, maybe a yurt??thank you, ladies for giving me your winter coats

a blessing in my dyepots

2010-05-10T11:08:00.004+03:00

when I opened this bundle, I got goosebumps. I still look at it in short glances.
it is a long piece of heavy cotton. there were copper pipes in there and rusty scraps of metal
another one with coins
twice folden, thrice dyed
coreopsis. many more to come
the sig vat, rug yarn- I like this so much, my mind is turning to weaving
these are strips tied with rusty stuff and left in the remnants of dyebaths, pomegranate, onionskins
pile of rags, poppy iceflower in the back
indigo. cotton sheet. many dips. my firdt!I am so grateful

red and blue on the same day

2010-05-03T11:06:00.006+03:00

this ones roots are safe from me
red trails-or are they rivers?
put in dry, long soaks in the vat, washed many times...yes, the smell does go away. 2 dips. you can see the top of Helen Melvins "The Colour of Sea and sky" which has been a great help in the indigo venture, along with J. Liles "The Art and Craft of Natural Dyeing"
my bundles warming up on the corner of the veranda
eucalyptus leaves shadows. I like this. I wish I left them longer
more prints on the bundle with the madder root. they were not left long enough to develop. they will probably get an ironwater treatment. and I don't know what gave the green...I'll turn into a meticulous notetaker yet
the madder in a jar with water. it is fermenting visibly after 24hrs
anthemis tinctoria, the green is overdyed with poppy iceflower,underneath all pomegranate rind warp yarn
bark soaking for the next round
while peeking into a bundle, impatient as always, I got a surprise.

red

deep lovely red

the bundle was hastily unbundled, and it was true..the orange root of madder gave me a deep red

I;ve been bundling up pieces of my pomegranate cloth, with leaves and metals

I simmered them in eucalyptus bark dyebath with more rusty nails, they are a very satisfactory black colour, now they are stewing in the very hot sun

there are coins in there as well, and some of the bundle cores are copper pipes, people just throw them out.

I have never been given red from madderroot before, and I am very excited

this madder was collected on May 1 in Varnavas, next village up, and it grows in very different conditions than it does here, in Grammatiko. I found it near a path in the forest where there is a lot of water, and the soil was moist, at places saturated with water. these were young roots, I didn't have a digging tool with me, so I just dug in a little bit and pulled out some intensely orange coloured roots, thin ones

I believe the preparation of the cloth has been very important. They have been scoured with caustic soda and lots of olive oil soap, which may have acted as the rancid oil of old.

it has been premordanted in succesive dips of wood ash lye and soya milk, and then dyed in pomegranate rind soup, cold

1st note to prospective dyer: Prepare, prepare, prepare. it is certainly worth it

a few remarks

my water is hard. very hard.

soya milk is fantastic. it is worth getting good quality beans.

sit on your hands. let those bundles age.

as long as possible.

keep notes on process. I may want to try to do it again

it feels like a gift from the land

the technique of bundling up plant matter is from India Flints " eco colour", a book which has led me to many a joyous dyeing experience. I am grateful to india for publishing this book. It s place is by my bed, and even just reading it gives me much enjoyment.

and the blue

yayyy again! I am dancing with joy

my urine vat is getting there! smelly, ammoniacal, ph over 9, sitting in the sun all day long, it has not been lazy at all. the indigo is reducing, it is dyeing strips of cotton , and yesterday it was washfast

I am so excited that my mind is running around itself trying to decide what to do first

:-))))))))))))

synthesis

2010-04-26T13:14:00.004+03:00

synthesis

the cloth is mostly done. It only needs fine tuning now- I hope it doesn't take another three months!

All the tying is done with string, coins and beads. Koshchei the deathless is in there....

behind the three towers, three birds who are really young men
stitching for unfolding
stitching before painting
the bird-suitors, on their way to becoming
the longest, straightest line I've ever stitched. half way down I realised the basting should probably be on the other side- it worked, anyway. the cloth hangs straight and even
trial telling.
it folds and unfolds like a storybook with popups, the skeleton in the closet is a great success, the beads and coins shine and sparkle, and give it weight to hang straight, the cloth dances in the breezeI am proud of the cloth. now the telling has to become more impressive than the cloth!

there are many bits of me stitched into that cloth

it feels weird, that I have an öbject"

my art until now was in winged words or dancing waves of air... this cloth is still there after the telling is done.

hmmm

hell is the dark side of paradise

2010-03-26T19:11:00.003+02:00

ΕΔΕ απο Χρυσοχοϊδη, τα ΟΥΚ ανήκουν στο Λιμενικό!

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this video shows greek special commandos shouting racist slogans, still in formation right after the parade for national independence day yesterday

I am terrified and ashamed

violence is in the city, fear in the souls

oh, it is so difficult, at times to be part of this

inorganic pigments(preview), some onion skins, alkanet, landscape and plants

2010-03-25T09:17:00.006+02:00

onion skins, cotton
and linen.
photo by my dear friend and coleague Mats Rehnman who popped over from Sweden for world storytelling day

another of Mats;s photos. this is Rhamnous, an ancient port. Yes, it was named after the persian berry producing bush which is still prolific in the area. I think I've mentioned before that I think I live in dyeland....
straining pomegranate dyebath. I;ve been dyeing metres and metres of thick cotton for my current project
which is a painted storycloth, an illustrated storytelling par. this is on of the plans I've made, on paper
moon rising
I am using inorganic pigments with soymilk as binder and sizing. this is linen. It is absolutely beautiful when painted on.
this is an alkanet dyebath, a linen dress, I extracted the colour with alcohol
this is what I do with the remnants of mixed colours
in the red is genista tinctoria, in the blue.....what else indigofera. still waiting
violets.
new leaves on rosebush in the early sunlight

and me with a part of the storycloth. this is the baba yaga place. The cloth is one of my milky pre mordanted cloths from last year, it is perfect for painting on, no wicking. I had two of these cloths, one soaked in yogurt, one in kefir, diluted with water. both are stiff and smell a little cheesy. This is what I've been up to, the weather is warming up, the flowers are in a wild dancing mood, giving their all before the heat sets in. paradise.

how to make a traditional ragdoll from greece, a koutsouna

2010-02-25T23:43:00.005+02:00

all you need

first the head, with the ridge in front
then the body, a cylinder, wind tightly
tie the body with the strip of cloth, tightly so that it stays attached to the neck. this is what makes me think that the lack of arms is intentional. It is easy to make this strip longer and give her arms
this is the "elegant" stage, like a cycladic sculpture
the shirt
the apron
the headscarf, longest side over the forehead. thesedays children call it a bandanna. until they notice the older ladies in the village, and say "look, a koutsouna~"
you can tie it in front,
or around the front and tied in the back. take care to cut the scarf wide enough, it is fiddly to tie when it is too short, and it gives character to the koutsouna.
from behind
this is to see the face, made by the walnut inside. the photo is dark, i'm sorry, but the shadows wouldn't show up with the flash.look at the walnut carefully, and at peoples heads. if you put it upside down, it doesn't work.

all the knots are simple- do you call them overhand knots? the first stage in shoelace tying. you want to be able to undo them easily, to give your koutsouna a change of dress, or body, or why not- face!

this is an article on traditional clothing

girls used to make baby koutsounes as well, and their first weavings were baby blankets, woven on a tile, for koutsouna babies.

Naomi, happy dollmaking and lots of hugs

tutorial in a while...

2010-02-25T21:24:00.002+02:00

just came back from childrens hospital, little one broke his wrist. He is ok, not a bad break (he only got half a cast, for three weeks)

I'll try and get the koutsouna tutorial posted later, after I've fed the boys

it was a not very worried trip to this hospital, but after we left I remembered, in my body, sinking heart, rubbery legs, other times which were more stressful

the best part was when in the car home, on top of pendeli mountain I shouted swearwords to the wind, not too hardcore but inventive, the boys did the same, after asking permission

we came back home smiling.

pomegranate, a

2010-02-23T09:28:00.004+02:00

preparing, yesterday

everything out, on the table

skeining thin crochet yarn

waiting for inspiration. sometimes even just looking at these books does it... india flints eco colour and J. Liles, with very different approach, alchemy in the meeting of opposites
I decided to start with an ash water soak, and think about protein later. at the same time, I was trying to decide which kind of tannin yellow I want to dye an old sheet with stains, for a storytelling project. The sheet went into the lye bath, Rumex roots gathered last year....too much work to grind them, and they would need soaking. I could gather schinus tops and kermes acorns...too brownish, too lazy

and I remembered that I had a bag of pomegranates, drying, from last year
suddenly a flurry of activity! I dug out those pomefranates, they were dry but springy, not hard, with the seeds still in them. I poured warm water over them, it immediately turned dark red...beautiful. there is some gauze soaking in that first juice, to be solar dyed

when the rinds were softer, I chopped them up. I took the sheet out of the ashwater after a couple of hours and I hung it out to dry.

later, I put it in the dyepot after adding more water to the very dark pomegranate juice. it immediately took up colour (the greenish tinge I think is from the fluorescent light)

I decided not to boil it, just simmered very gently for a couple of hours. I didn't mind it not being dyed evenly so I left all the rinds and seeds in the pot, where the sheet was really jammed in. a kind of bundle. I turned off the heat and left it there all night
this is what came out of that pot, golden in the first light of day. It is a cheating picture, of course, this is straight out of the pot, still wet, unrinsed, in the lovely early morning light. the colour is so beautiful, I had to share.
it will get browner as it dries, and I've seen some tannic yellows get darker with time. I'll show you what happens.
this is all very exciting, the bath still looks strong, I will try for some greys and blacks with rusty metalthis is the acropolis in dust from Africa. The south wind is the reason winter bypassed us this year. we'll see

I sowed Isatis tinctoria, woad,yesterday, seeds, in the old vegetable plot. It rained lightly in the evening- how's that for a good omen?

oh, yes- i did check the ph of all the liquids (new set of ph papers)

the ashwater: 9-10

pomegranate liquid 5-6

dyebath: 7, with unrinsed but dried ash soaked sheet in it

today the dyebath is a definite 6

I'll let it stand with the rinds and seeds in it to see what happens.

ragladies and a saint

2010-02-21T21:19:00.003+02:00

One day, at the folklore museum in the village of Varnavas I found this
he is a saint, an icon with a cheap print face, lovingly embellished in piety by a nun.
I thought you would like to see him.he stands in the kitchen of the museum, not deemed interesting enough to be exhibited.

a few rag ladies. they are called "koutsounes" in greek, children used to make them with scraps of cloth, clothes that had been worn to rags, in the time when all clothes, every fabric in the house was handmade.they have a walnut for a head, if you place it well you get a proper head with facial characteristics. All scraps are tied, there is no sewing involved, small children can make them if you help with the cutting and tying, and they can be undressed and dressed again indefinitely.they look like real people,. they don't have arms or hands, but village ladies would never wave theirs around in public, they would keep them folded across their breasts or in their pockets. if you are careful how you tie the body to the head, with cloth, of course, string or yarn would be too precious, you can create a suggestion of breasts...
children love it when I tell them that :-)) and when teachers look at me I go into teaching mode and talk about how wisely tradition found a way of portraying the real human body ;-)the very little ones like to draw eyes and mouths on their faces, older ones are satisfied with the suggested scuptural features of the walnut. Every time I make them I am amazed at the economy and art that is involved in such a simple work of representation. the ladies always turn out elegant, as a work of art, and powerful in their abstraction. If you give them enough cloth for their bodies they can even sit..

many children go to the piles of rags and surrepititiously take some to make another one at home. I never stop them.