Wool.

When I was young my mom made me a coat from wool fleece, thick and warm. She was a weaver but for this coat she used the same technique as she used for making wooly carpets. For the inside lining she used a black cotton with little red flowers.
My father warned my mom not to dress me differently than the other kids at school, so I did not wear it for long, just a short while. Grin, but alas the deed was done, I loved and love the raw feel of wool which suits my being so well.

I’ve always known the coat, in a small way, co-created me, this me, a human with all those different parts of me and maker of warm silent hiding spaces, the me with flowers on the inside.


For this shot for the Global burrow project, we made a couple of years ago,  a friend took me to an ancient wood in the US where we found a fallen giant, feeder of fungi and little creatures and a heart filling hiding place for bigger creatures.

time warp..

The Shearer send a message the other day, that he had good wool for me, perfect for a project I am working on. Wool from people who keep sheep as pets. ‘Just go to the barn and you will know immediately which bag it is.’ =)

and now for the first time in a fair bit my hands, body and space smell as if a herd of sheep took over ;) Soft and gorgeous and alive are these fleeces with stories of the field and area they live in.

It was of a dream you know this project, where you do things, make good things and no one gets hurt. Where you become a medicine woman.. that kind of dream.

Ahimsa.

 

Sticking.

It’s been a while since I hung a new swing somewhere for The despite act , in fact the last 5 felted swings will be taken down at the end of the Confluence exhibit this week.

Some things stick a bit, just because you are not done with them yet. As I am not done with the swings, they might pop up somewhere again in some perfect unused building or old cathedral. And talking of which, ‘t would be nice if you let me know if you know of that brilliant place to hang a swing for an hour, a bit or a while.. or if you have to go see a man about a horse.

..talking about things that stick, a song by Stu Larsen, 13 sad farewells.

7_img-from-jane

IMG_0853

7_the-despite-act-40

IMG_0812