repository for the occasional perambulatory rumination

sing it with me now (with apologies to gene autry): i’m back with a needle again. out where a friend meets a friend. where stitchin’ fingers feed on cloth and thread and bead, i’m back with a needle again. been through a bit of a drought of late. or maybe it’s just the periodic fallow […]

on a recent pocketbook-shopping expedition, i pondered this one, liking it for its color, its flexible sides, its roomy interior, its silver grommets, its various pockets and compartments. i liked the way it is always open and ready to take in more. then i spotted this one, liking it for its color, its compact size, […]

oh my goodness. been stitching a lot with words lately – not just from desire, either. found myself stranded without thread, of all things. almost took some clothing apart yesterday in my withdrawal mania. but now, now i’m reunited with threads and ready to dive back into the world of stitching with/on cloth. been shopping […]

“A pile of rocks ceases to be a rock when somebody contemplates it with the idea of a cathedral in mind.” so says Antoine de Saint-Exupery wherever granite stops on its way down hill is where it will remain. that’s what the guide told us as we toured the quarry in barre, vermont last summer, […]

yes, nature is providing salve for my soul of late, helping me bring order to the chaos. today was a travel day, and once arrived, phoebe and i went straightaway for a romp outside – she to bury some tasty morsels for future snack attacks and me to nap on a rock in the sun, […]

sometimes if we quietly, tenaciously connect the knots, things begin to take shape . . .

it occurs to me today that a mother’s love is like a stream: amorphous water that manages to keep moving regardless. trees become dislodged upstream, rocks float downstream and stop, and the water simply moves around or over or under or sometimes through. never stopping. knowing – in ways that only water can know – […]

today, on mother’s day eve, i took refuge in the familiar land of bookmaking and accomplishment, creating a journal to accompany autoquiltography one. a container of irregular, asymmetrical pages wrapped in a placemat because table linens are the stuff of which all of my autoquiltography pieces are made lined in fabric that conjures images of […]

have seen in the past few weeks that some people are like these grasses: soft and graceful when viewed from afar but get close and you find their razor-sharp edges. today, though, it was time to leave the world of grasses and create a brand new world of my own clothimation: