Mottaini

I've not picked up a paintbrush or drawn anything seriously since October last year.

That's quite a while ago.


Leading up to the art fair in 2019, my artist-in-crime friend and I drove ourselves hard to be both organisers and participators of the event and right up to the last minute we pushed on, until the Friday of the setup when we, through gritted teeth, agreed 'no more'.

So we closed the event, after three years, we were burnt out.

I still have that inner urge to craft, however I yearned for something different, so I have started sewing. I am more of a 'craft-sewing' than a 'make your clothes' type person. It is not something I do regularly...  Until now....

I am not good at following patterns, it is not that I don't understand them, it's more that I.don't.read.them.and.just.wing.it......... I rely on them to inspire me rather than instruct me - which leads to a singularly bespoke item (interpret this as you will but the gist is - each thing I make can not be replicated - coz I just would not be able to do it!) 

I have even laid down my crochet hook (the last item I made was a hexi-lapghan and even that took longer than it should) in preference to the simple rhythmic dip, pull, slide of sewing simple circular boro inspired stitches purely for the enjoyment of the act and the pleasure of the finished piece.

 

 Originally done as a form of repair, as fabric was expensive and only the rich could afford to replace worn clothing, Japanese boro stitching was part of the recycling of fabric to allow every last scrap to be used and to be useful.

This philosophy centres around the Japanese belief of 'Mottaini' of wasting nothing of the intrinsic value of an object.

I love the simplicity of the circular motion and I love when I overlap the pattern and the stitches cross over and into each other. That to me is where the magic is.

The motion of my hand, the simple repetition of plying the needle and thread, are all good mindful 'clear the head' actions.

Have a good weekend, filled with gentle crafting to feed your soul xxx

September brings

There is a definite nip in the air, also a sense of  'anticipation', of holding one's breath, of almost being in limbo.

August has left and it appears that the fading summer decided to go at the same moment. The words are there, they are swirling around in my head however as soon as my fingers try to type them out, they sound/feel inadequate. So I might let them continue to swirl until they find an order that makes more sense.

In the meantime I shall leave you with a photo (or two) from last weekend. I need a shower, I've been gardening today and feel quite grubby.

Sewing

Cooling off

Discovering

Loving

I shall just leave you with this conundrum. 

How big a stick is too big? ..... 

Discuss.

Words for September.
Thank you everyone for joining in - One dear blogger missed the deadline - please go and have a look at her lovely post - Sister Sun.

Seasonal
Favourite seat/place to sit
Comforting/cosy
Delight/ed/ful
Micro/mini/teeny tiny
My own choice

Several prompts have a number of mini-versions, choose which ever feels right for you, for the photos you have stashed in your archives or the pictures you take this month.

The seasons are definitely turning, in the north we are rolling towards autumn and in the south towards spring - may be because the seasons are neither here nor there, almost in limbo, that is has made me feel the same way. I am sure that once I have come to terms that autumn has stepped in through the door, my words will flow once more - until then dear ones, stay safe xxx

August's link up party!

Hello hello hello!

Wow - another month seems to have slipped by - never mind, let's mark August turning into September with this month's Scavenger Photo Hunt!

Just follow the link to add your post for August and if you fancy joining it next month - it is really easy, just follow the list of words supplied at the beginning of each month adding a photo and a few accompanying words. Enjoy!

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Photos and stories for August

I am typing this on a gloomy and wildly wet Tuesday morning - thankfully I am working indoors today. The words this month were triggered by the then immanent move of my eldest son and his lovely girlfriend into their first home. Great I thought, plenty material to snap pictures of ... you know ... moving/boxes/making - not a problem. Except there is, I never took any 'action' photos, packing was done, moving happened, unpacking followed and .... other than the bittersweet triumphant pictures of them standing in the doorway of their new home whilst Youngest did his best to cheerfully 'ruin' every photo (which he managed almost successfully and we now have a set of wonderfully silly memories of that day) I have nothing suitable.

So, this morning will be a day to amend this lack - a trawling through my archives hopefully will give me something outside of those 'boxes' - wish me luck!

Moving

A quiet moment during the silliness of taking photos, Eldest and GF pausing at their door of their new home knowing that Youngest is goofing around outside. The coolness of the interior a comfortable contrast to a hot moving day.

Boxes

Leading up to moving day, we had collected boxes of all sizes. Most of the smaller ones were commandeered by a certain Princess (Pan). Eventually she was able to keep one for her own - even having a 'royal edict' on the side proclaiming that this was indeed her very own box! I sent a plea out on the family 'chat' and asked for anyone to send a photo of Pan in her box .... I received so many that I was spoilt for choice!


Starts with ..... D

Well it had to be D for my Dilly Dog..... Moss sunbathing through her eyelids in the greenhouse whilst I was picking tomatoes and courgettes. She seemed to have such a 'knowing look', as I was chatting to her.... Moments later, she was asleep..........

Breakfast

Again I planned to take an 'insta' style image of a breakfast taken through a van door over looking a view .... but no - did not even take one of those whilst away! So you are getting a look at my bog-standard breakfast and a view of my new favourite jug and sunflowers - not bad eh?

Making

Making face masks, cushions, things for chrimbly* and a sewing space for me.

My Own Choice

Three silly hair-doos. 
Walking along, chatting to each other, first one then two and finally three faces popped up and watched us..... They did not utter a sound - I just fell about laughing at their lovely faces!

There you have it - my photos and stories, I hope they made you smile - have a lovely weekend xxx


*shhhh - don't mention the chrimbly word - I am still coming to terms with the sense of the loss of summer as she slips away and autumn steps through the door. I am hoping crafting and creating will fill that void of 'summer gone' I develop this time of the year xxx

Moss

Thank you so much everyone for your lovely comments about those few seconds of magic in my last post - it seems the hare holds a special place for a lot of folk.

On the same walk I took many other photos, some to capture the moment, some to take for blogging and most of them .... of Moss.

So, I thought I would share a few (yes just a few) of our dilly dog enjoying her walk.

She adores Himself, often trailing around after him with a stick or a ball and asking him to throw it for her. Yes, before anyone says - dogs should not carry sticks, tell that to Moss who collects sticks with the fervour of a trainspotter collecting train details or a twitcher trying to photograph the latest bird.

She has this 'trade up and swap' system with sticks. She'll find one almost as soon as we start walking, she'll carry it, dropping it at our feet, retrieving it almost immediately and carry it a bit further.... until she finds a 'better' stick or a 'bigger' stick and then she swaps. This will continue for most of the walk - even on this hot 10 miler walk - many a stick joined us on those dusty miles.

The only thing better than a stick .... water. Any river, stream, trough, pond, bath, puddle or the sea - and the combination of sticks in water - happy happy dog! 

With her background as a trained sheep dog we can instruct her by pointing or waving, which direction to go, she will check once or twice by looking over her shoulder and we confirm by repeating the action and she will then shoot on ahead.

If she thinks we are being too slow, she returns to check we are still following, then turns back setting out front as our own personal scouting party :) 

Our walks are brilliant, I love being out and finding new to me paths, new vistas and new stories, but they are all the better, all the richer and happier - thanks to this dilly dog.

And, we know if it has been a good one, when Moss once back home or back at the van, she scoffs her dinner and flops over on her side and has a deep and rejuvenating nap - ready for the next adventure!

Hope your week is as happy as our silly dilly dog during a walk filled with rivers and sticks (lots of sticks) xxx

One of those moments

Today Himself and I wistfully acknowledged the swifts have gone.

We'd seperately been keeping a half cocked ear for them for the last few days and today, we reluctantly agreed... yes, they have left.

The swallows are still about, flitting around, getting their maps and travel plans ready and it wont be long before they all start congregating on 'phone lines and organising their day of departure.

I miss the screaming parties of swifts as they cut through the sky above our heads at phenomenal speeds.  These birds are, to me the spirit of summer. When they go, summer goes too.

Another animal that has a hold over me is the wild brown hare. Secretive and wary, it is a magical moment when you come across, however fleeting, a hare quietly getting on with it's own life.

Last week, during a rather long and very warm walk, (over ten miles in the end) we came across this special moment. 

To be honest, I was tired, very footsore, limping slightly as my knee although as good as it will ever be, gets tired too. Our conversation had dried up as had our water and tea in the flask, it was now just the final push to get home.

And, as we trudged our way up a dusty farm track, I was halted by this site - we stopped immediately, hissed at Moss to lie down and ..... apart from my camera coming up slowly, we stood stock still.

I could barely breath, especially as the hare after what felt like an age of not moving, quietly began to lope towards us. Unhurried, unworried and unaware.

Then, after the hare had come delightfully close, it must have spotted us, and calmly sprang up on to the banking into the field and vanished.

Wow.

We stood for a moment, stunned by this precious moment. Then continued with our walk, only this time we had a bit more oomph in our step and our conversation has returned and was filled with what we had just seen.

Now, as I type this, sitting at home, I can still feel the heat of that day, taste the dust and smell the ripening grain crops in the fields and the hot pine tree resin scents that surrounded us.

Magic!

Do dogs dream in wolf?

There is something primeval, satisfyingly delicious watching the sun go down after a warm and sultry day. To feel the heat from the sinking sun, still warm enough to leave a fieriness glow on my face.

Then as the colours soften and the air cools, a light and sweetly scented breeze drifts lifting tendrils of hair tickling my nose. Moss feels the change too. While the sun is high, she explores, sniffing invisible stories, following secret smells, then as the sky darkens, she becomes still, more alert and watchful. Her already intense eyes become even more so - her ears more erect and she scans the horizon acutely. She lies near my feet and appears to change from relaxed 'on-holiday-dog' to heightened vigilant sentinel.

I find that at dusk the air changes - in scent, in taste and in temperature - and I, a fairly simple human can feel this shift reasonably easily. For a dog with a gazillion times better sensory system and a snoot long and sensitive - this change must be loud and clear and harken back to primitive times.

A time when dogs were wolves. Does Moss dream in wolf? Or does she dream of chasing balls in to the sea and chomping on bone shaped biscuits.....