continuing

When you aren't working in your sketch book, you are poking around on the internet - reading other people's blog and wondering about all that is said.  When you aren't working on you sketch book or travelling around in the  electronic sphere you are stitching.  One is always stitching....but when you aren't doing any of the above you've got a head-cold and stitching slower.  I had a slight concussion last year so when ever I get head related issues my brain seems to bounce around in it's shell for a bit longer then it should.  I have been stitching away and reading slowly - but in the between/mean time I thought I'd share some gifts that came in the mail from ...Lynne Hoppe...a few things that she saw while sitting under a tree during one of her walks.  

I have been working out some ideas in my sketch books. Here is a sample page. A sketch from 22nd January, 2012.  Inspired by some of the faces that you see when you visit Lynne...I had to see how I could do with some of the tools that she uses - ink, old printed paper, pencil, water color, and her favorite pencils - the Derwent - Inktense.  

I've also been continue to do my TAST - take a stitch Tuesday - last week Herringbon and this week Chevron.  The page is from Fascicle number four - completed. Yes, I now have four completed fascicles - 36 more to go.  Chevron on the left and Herringbone on the right. 


I've also been reading and listen to some poems.  One that I can't get out of my thoughts is by Linda Gregg:
The Weight Linda Gregg Reading The Weight: this link will take you to a page where you can listen to Linda Gregg read.  Her voice is so well suited for reading, especially Weight. 

Two horses were put together in the same paddock. Night and day. In the night and in the day wet from heat and the chill of the wind on it. Muzzle to water, snorting, head swinging and the taste of bay in the shadowed air. The dignity of being. They slept that way, knowing each other always. Withers quivering for a moment, fetlock and the proud rise at the base of the tail, width of back. The volume of them, and each other's weight. Fences were nothing compared to that. People were nothing. They slept standing, their throats curved against the other's rump. They breathed against each other, whinnied and stomped. There are things they did that I do not know. The privacy of them had a river in it. Had our universe in it. And the way its border looks back at us with its light. This was finally their freedom. The freedom an oak tree knows. That is built at night by stars. I hope to be back by the weekend to show my progress on the fascicle project and the other things I've been holding in my hand during the last two weeks - Thank you for stopping by and take care fore now...that cruddy buggy season is out there.