A negative lost between the panels of a forgotten drawer in one of the old studio cabinets. A dress of repurposed fabric, handmade to suit, pretty bias trimming, three quarter sleeves and pockets large enough for paperbacks. A sturdily sewn heavy canvas sock sack, again with pockets for the good stuff. (You are a child of the moon and now you have the pin to prove it.) A shawl, worn as a kerchief, a soft cotton wool dream, full on prairie chic. A moody kiki sitting atop the stairs wondering if it’s worth the effort. A soft shape in strong contrast.
Trying to notice the quiet things, the shift in light, the rough edges, trying to shake that feeling of losing time, not settling between knitting and sewing, not settling between winter and spring (that’s the same now un- snowy hillside from my previous snowy post, it was near 70° yesterday and tomorrow’s forecast is 8″ of snow). Pulling fabrics for practice, before fussy cutting for friends, telling myself the only way to conquer all my zipper hang-ups, is to buy 200+ yards of zip coil and just get on with it (those smooth matte buttery pulls are everything ♡). Wishing more days were as simple as contemplating sun patches.