My mind floats and bobs, gets caught in eddies in the stream, bumps up against a rock at the edge and attracts a discarded plastic shopping bag which clings, flapping in the water and then floats off...
Three months by the calendar. Rocks and rapids. White water swallowing the sound of my voice.
Trapped in the broken boat of my own thoughts.
Emerging. I begin to wind paper and cloth into beads. And to gather silk cocoons.
It is the start of a voice.
9 comments:
I'm intrigued by what you've been doing? Fiber beads?
Such colors.
I know the river that you describe. But even in a broken boat, we can get past it. We... friends... that which keeps the broken boat buoyant.
Beads and flowers and wicker and lovely colors... perfect.
BB - Fabric gessoed to a paper backing and rolled. I'm also going to experiment with painting silk to use and with big felt beads. It was the silk cocoons that made me want to try fabric beads.
Z-Aren't they something? So rich!
KD - Yeah. You know the boat. It's the one with the angel at the front.
Grinning.
Hallo there lj. The beads look stunning. Hope the boat needs less bailing out now. (0)
xoxoxo
I relate.
xoxoxo
...and what a lovely voice it is...
It is a voice that paints pictures with words of beautiful colours...
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