magic

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

Back, sort of

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...

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

too busy to write

seamingII

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

winter, heroes, containers and the galaxy

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.

foggy

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

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

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

heat and absence

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