,
Summer...a need for red that maybe is fusia. In the end....the cloth always speaks its own mind. I dyed the warp, about 6 yards. I Wound it onto my copper loom, took it to town...wove. Life and death happened. The cloth revealed itself In small sections each one as compelling as the section before. The woven parts disapeared around the beam and remained memories as the unwoven warp presented itself. Falling in love again and again and again... New days new places, the tannery courtyard, a garden...
The End came before I expected it to...and all of the sudden I had plans. I could see the end. I would finish the very next day...but plans are not the same thing as life. The end required patience. It required fixing broken strings. It required breaks for conversations. It required going home. It asked me to slow down and keep going.
And this end seemed only to make room for begining again...
