So. Again. Amazement with the process of cloth. How it unifies thoughts. Solidifies them. Pulls together disparate scraps of ideas and memories–forgotten threads. How, in the case of this cloth, spending days with its evolution mirrored simultaneous cultural and social events.
And again, as reminder to self, I’m chronicling the process as a personal reminder of the synchronicity of energy. The close relationship between
internal experience and external movement. And the miracle of how it comes together to tell cloth story.
This cloth started out as no thing except color and shape. Color as experiment. Color as an exercise prompted by following the ideas of the workshop I participate in with Jude Hill.
At this point, even though it looked like a rather unsavory hodgepodge of material, there started to emerge a sense of meaning for me. I had been mulling over the concept of karma and free will. Karma specifically as in the notion that perhaps we really DO come into this life predisposed towards certain proclivities–tendencies. And because school had just started and I was observing grand son navigate the beginnings of grade 1, I was noticing also my tendency to “worry.” Then thinking not of grand son, but of this tendency to worry. And as a clear example, remembering a time–and this was more than 55 years ago–a time when I would be washing the families’ dinner dishes, gazing out onto the mountains in front of our kitchen window. Worrying. Not about my children. Rather worrying about the world my grandchildren would inherit. And this strikes me, now, as a REALLY weird thing for a 10 year old to worry about. I wonder at the genesis of this. Nature? Nurture? Karma? I don’t know.
Then the cloth started to have meaning in a different way, and the two mid-body wings became the the arms of the grandchild I’ve carried around inside of myself for all of these years. And the sense began to emerge of our universal connectedness. The web of life that unites us all. As well as the primal urge to protect what we love.
Seasons and cycles and the rhythm of life began emerging in my consciousness. Life and death and rebirth all began exerting their influence and the cloth started moving from the personal to the universal. Universal as in universe. Cosmos. Stars and planets and galaxies–all of which I, in my sometimes earthbound focus, forget to acknowledge.
and as the sky changed and stars began appearing, the cloth reminded me of the oneness of all things–and unified the cloth with the suggestion of circle–the reminder that my life is but one tiny light–bright or as dim as it may be–yet part of the whole–and a huge sense of joy started emerging with this reminder….
and the joy continued as the cloth easily filled in the gaps.
This morning, while I was completing the final stitching, I caught an interview with NPR’s Onbeing with Krista Tippett. She was interviewing Natalie Batalha–a “mission scientist with NASA’s Kepler Space Telescope program.” The program was entitled “Exoplanets and Love: The Science that Connects Us to One Another.” And I need to mention that chemical warfare in Syria has been on the news and again, the question of US involvement–and I have been so, so concerned about ALL of this–and then this program.
Ms. Batalha: Ninety-five percent of the mass of the universe being something we can’t even see, and yet it moves us. It draws us. It creates galaxies. We’re like moving on a current of this gravitational field created by mostly stuff that we can’t see. And the analogy with love just struck me, you know, that it’s like this thing that we can’t see, that we don’t understand yet. It’s everywhere and it moves us. And science has given me that perspective, but also in very logistical, tangible, practical ways, you know. I mean, when you study science, you step out of planet Earth. You look back down at this blue sphere and you see a world with no borders.
Ms. Tippett: Right, right.
Ms. Batalha: You see a tiny mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. You see the expanse of the cosmos and you realize how small we are and how connected we are and that we are all the same and that what’s good for you has to be good for me, you know. I mean, it just changes your perspective.
As I finished the cloth, resonating with the wonders of the interview and the way the ideas seemed to reinforce the story of this particular cloth, I imagined being in space and viewing earth. Looking “back down at this blue sphere…a world with no borders.” And I nodded to myself, “Yes. ” And Ms. Batalha reiterated that essentially we are all created from the same matter–in fact we are all made from the basic components of star dust. Imagine that. And she hurried to say that this was not some new age hippy dippy concept. It is true. So then, what is it going to take?
I love it!
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thank you for visiting!
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i cry, reading here. i am so glad to know you
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and i you–and we’re all simply stardust. isn’t that a wonder full thought. much much love to you my dear friend. xoxo
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remember the song? we are stardust, we are golden and we’ve got
to get ourselves back to the garden
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yes yes yes
“we are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon”
amazing to think about this. the then and the now. and how so much yet so little has changed.
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this cloth and words sing that song so beautifully
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I truly love the evolution of this cloth piece–so much heart, and your words have comforted me today…alone in NYC. all my love to you.
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there you are! you’ve been on my mind a lot. this time of the year especially. and if there was any comfort for you in these words, well–that makes it all so much better. much love to you xo
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Oh, Patricia, this is just so great and moving. The cloth and the beautiful post. Thanks for sharing both.
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hi Beth. i always looks forward to your comments. thanks for being here.
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it is a grand example, this post, of how fertile Jude’s classes can be, how interesting hearing about a creator’s inner process can be — and dare I say? the triumph of hope over despair?
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Yes, there’s always that–the triumph of the human spirit. And I so agree with you about the impact of Jude’s classes–and how it’s informing my work and perhaps even my life–yes, my life too. so glad you visited.
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such a meaning-full cloth this is, what a journey and I agree with Dee about how Jude’s classes carry us further than we could dare imagine on our own, or maybe we could imagine it but would not have the courage to share
I love the part about how you have also carried your grandchildren within
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the courage to share–isn’t that interesting. i remember when i would just get so worked up over whether or not to say a certain thing–and now, well, now that’s all changed. and i do think Jude’s lead has had much to do with that. glad you liked the piece and the journey. and yes, the grandchild. there all along. much love to you.
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very beautiful
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and you have opened the door
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Oh my, Patricia, I feel again that “connection” which is created in all students that Jude ever had ….
(though I’m not there to participate at this moment in the what-iffing, it is só good to read your story and see your cloth …. it’s beautiful !!!!
Thank you so much for sharing !
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the community of Jude. how blessed we are. thanks for stopping by.
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Joy radiates from this. I love that interview too.
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the interview. so glad you heard it as well. i’m still reeling with the concept of stardust in all its variations.
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Popped over from Spirit Cloth…..this is an amazing piece and a beautiful chronicle! Thank you for sharing it!
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and Marianna–so wonder full that you’re here. thank You.
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So much to see and feel in this cloth! Beautiful!
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i’ve visited mostly threads before and love your work. now so happy to put it all together–you–the blog–and this visit. it’s all just so much.
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I guess love is what it will take. A good reminder. A moving and well written post – glad I visited. I resonate with the worry and thoughts from a young age that weren’t an average young person’s worry and the worry now but finding a way through and continually remembering its about love. Your work is lovely too 🙂
Amelia.x
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oh Amelia. the “finding a way through”–yes–so well put. do you have a blog i could visit?
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Finally a moment to come here after coming back home to New Mexico on Thurs. I’ve looked at this cloth, the child within the grandmother and felt so moved not only because I have returned from two months with my own grandchildren but especially with the universality of the emotions depicted here. We all love, we all fear at times for the world our loved ones will inherit, for the love of our planet, our only home. Compelling to me are the two simple arc strips, the circle of life at the top and bottom, sky above, earth below. We all see the same sky and while the land our feet touch varies, still, we are rooted to a sense of place, whether that fluctuates or not, a sense of family, no matter what that encompasses, a sense of community for in this planetary world of ours, we all belong to each other..
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hi Marti. wonder full to hear from you. back under the vast NM sky. yes, the “universality of emotions” as you say–and the reminder that “we all belong to each other.” that notion has taken on more than a bumper sticker mentality for me–here in NC it’s the “ALL ONE” blue banner on the backs of vehicles. and like many ideas that become main street rhetoric, it’s easy to just mouth the words w/o really feeling the intensity of the truth behind the words. but when life and all its magic is reduced to the concept that truly, we are all one, as in the stardust illustration, well, for me, the magic is simply enhanced and the concept solidified deeply w/in my heart. i so enjoyed hearing from you.
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