Turn the lights off when

I’m finally putting together the second Kochi jacket I cut from an old dress. Nani Iro double gauze. Cotton. Lovely.

My gran’s old machine. It has been so good to me.

I’ve had these pieces sitting for months, but no motivation to complete the work. That’s hard to admit. I hate when I do that.

I had plenty of fabric from the dress I disassembled to do this jacket, but the pieces were awkwardly shaped for the use I had in mind, so I ended up piecing together smaller bits for the collar and sleeves. I decided to make it a feature by using neon top stitching. I always like the way that looks on fabric as resolutely neutral as this is.

Anyway, I’ll be up late with this one, I think. I really want it done.

Anti-gloominess measures, a.m. version

(My writing is poor; apologies if it’s poor enough to be incorrect. Unfortunately, I don’t even know if that’s the case! But I am trying.)

The dark, rainy days are keeping me in. Every time I try to go out and get some exercise, another downpour begins. I tried making the best of the rain, but here’s the thing: I didn’t want to, and it showed.

The sky is gloomy. I am antsy which means I am gloomy, too. Hello, July, please try to be less damp.

Update: it just happened again.

Everywhere I was

I began taking photographs to remember when I saw things I wanted to try to draw later. Because of this, my phone is full of photos that maybe don’t make sense, but which represent something to me which was, at the time, transcendent. A color, a particular tenderness in the way a plant was situated, or maybe a habit of growth I found appealing.

The hanging heads of these grasses get me every time.

As time went on, I wanted more to capture feelings of a place, not just small details for later use.

This is my favorite photo. No one else likes it.

I’ve never been into trying to capture memorable moments. I have a few snaps of birthdays and events which I’ve taken out of a vague sense that it’s my job, but mostly I forget because I’m busy kind of, well, living it.

It seems, though, that photos of feelings and little details can be as evocative for me as those of a person or an event. They’re a catalog of my minutes, and far more meaningful to me than I expected they would be when I took them.

Midsummer weekend

I had the trails to myself. It was just what I needed.

The air was heavy and almost oppressively hot. It helps. It’s the objective overwhelming of the senses which kind of scrambles signals and can produce a different state of mind.

On this occasion, I became completely absorbed in a train of thought I’d been trying to follow for days. Weeks? No matter, suddenly it was effortless and so, so pleasurable. A good way to celebrate longest days.

Something crushed and sweet

Broken, they release information, a scent: pungent, ephemeral, with the sickly sweetness of death.

Art is an attempt to transform death—of a feeling, a thought, a moment, an entire landscape, relationship, yourself as you were just now. Now, what dies every minute. Our art holds on. To.

Once, it was like that.

Square 1

There is nothing quite like a never-ending crocheted granny square for comfort. It comforts me to make it, and it comforts me to wear it. Here’s one I finished a few years ago.

This is the first one I made from nice yarn. It’s all Madelinetosh Tosh Merino Light in various shades I had left over from other projects. The only exception is the scalloped edge, which I made from Madelinetosh Prairie, a lace weight yarn, also left over from another project.

This is large, as shawls go, I think about 52” square. I fold it into a triangle and start draping. When I’m done, usually I don’t need a coat. It’s 100% merino wool, so it’s pretty warm.

My idea for the color scheme was to do colors I see outside in early spring. I like how it turned out.