digging deeper

who can say why certain things...

shapes, colors, textures, 

animals, even,

who can say why they speak to you, 

to one, in a certain specific, peculiar way.

perhaps they appear in dreams or day dreams, 

maybe hormone driven, 

maybe longing

maybe something altogether 

unknown or unknowable

but for whatever reason this shield i found on facebook

a first nations thing

pleases me.

 i was looking for tiny beads to use with the loom books

(i accumulated an embarrassment of old beads)

i was looking for the greasy yellow ones.

 some live in type trays

which is ridiculous in too many ways.

 2

these two strand sets are small and beautiful

and i see now 

that they are colors i used a long time ago in a tapestry.

 i lifted them out of the little wooden rectangle

that had become a cache.

field mice leave little stashes in my world,

and often i don't know the seeds. 

but here is, 

amongst others, 

milkweed.

 cottontail is large now

and doesn't show itself often.

 elsewhere in my back yard

november arrives

indoors 

there is a wonderful type event happening when the morning sun 

bathes the studio table in light.

two loom books completed, one with drawing,

and soon a larger one.

today i'm pulping 3 linen shirts.

an edition is planned!

talking with a coyote

yesterday was another weirdly warm day,

 too warm for jeans.

after supper while i was doing some fabric reclamation 

picking some really bad embroidery out of a piece of linen

to make paper with.

i heard them,

the coyote family i've been paying attention to all year.

i went out on my porch to listen, marveling at the warm evening

(and still pissed off about picking up a tick in it

-yes- 

in my YARD)

the family was spread out, some responding from pretty far off and then one howled

just across the road in the brush by my neighbors house, a young one!

then it barked. barked again. so i barked. quiet, then another bark. i barked.

and an exchange ensued, coyote kid and crone in training barking. 

i don't speak coyote, but i have been listening all year,

and i've never heard a single coyote bark for so long,

responding to my cadence and short barks,

so i know there was reciprocation. 

i finally stopped, afraid that that one's curiosity might tempt it across the road

which would not be good. 

my heart sang, or rather barked, all night long.

~~~

two books are brewing

a loom book and a landscape book.

loom book dummy:

it's blurry, but:

                                    and now to build a bigger and better loom book

                                              and see what my needle weaves.