My mandala of truth

Living in Germany has made me question existance, the order of events, chaos, and order. I felt as if I was lacking the ability to encounter the truth that lies within me. After reading and studying ancient beliefs, rituals, psychoanalysis, quantum physics, metaphysics, religion, I feel that now I can look within myself and expose my self. 

It was only through Jude Hill's Cloth to Cloth class that I have found a meditative way to create the canvas upon which I can surrender myself and release the energy. As the tibetan Mandala I am creating four gates with the elements, and in the middle of the circle the truth lies. I used the elephant to represent myself. 

Within each element the elephant is different. In earth the shadow of my true self hides its energy. It is coated by the leaves. it is soothed my the moist earth.

In the water the shadow floats and surrenders its sight so that it may feel the currents.

In the fire it allows to be consumed by the aggressive flames that lick its body clean. It becomes one with the anger and perverseness.

In the air it sees all down below and high above. The shadow perceives how small it actually is, and how it is part of all. 

It is only when all are connected that the truth is clear and perceivable. The shadows join to become one and all. The uniqueness is accepted. The unity with all is accomplished. 

Serenity is eternal.

Completed.

the journey from within

I have traveled far
I have seen the end of the universe and more.
I have seen the bleached white of the monstrous edge
and as I traveled I lost myself, she said
On the winding trails my soul got caught up on a branch
a branch with vines and thornes
and it has pierced my soul

from the hole my nectar has seeped out
drop by drop
and so now my ragged body must travel more
I must seek my tarnished self and mend it
I must piece myself back

I will no longer be the same.
I may smell foul
I may feel half empty, she said

but at least I will have myself back
I will be able to remember what it was like to feel fondness and joy
I will still have within me the sweet nectar
and now it will be more precious
and now it will be more sweet.

Wooni

Part of the chant for my healing cloth

Serendipitous

From behind the curtain a mighty light seared through the sky

a solemn creature stood expelling the light 

the rays dripped from his mighty head

falling, hovering among the molecules

Through his crystal eyes he told me of the light

he told me of the winds of time

and the pain he saw among us

You are a dying breed of souls

You must change your ways

Live in light

Live in peace

Let happiness survive

for she is small and weak 

and can only be carried by the lively

His words bathed my dirty body

and I left the tent renewed 

with a small petal in my pocket

 that smelled of Happiness...

Wooni

spiralling

I think I am enjoying this cloth to cloth class way too much. All I think about is about making more and more weaved things. I have even come up with a list of items that I want to attempt to make. Also I have been thinking about mandalas, spirals, and labyrinths. I love there serenity, contemplation and meditation that they bring, and when combined with sewing that in itself is very soothing and calming, just seems to fit perfectly. I would like to create a healing cloth. A cloth mandala where I can expel and heal myself. I have too much stress in my system that is not only taking over my mind, my thoughts, but now my body. The night before last I was unable to sleep. I was tired, but sleepless. I felt nervous, anxious, short of breath, and with an aching body.
After tossing and turning, trying to relax my body I was finally able to fall asleep at five o'clock in the morning. The only good things is the whole time I was thinking about spirals....

Spirals spiraling down.
defying space, time,
coiling though my senses
and spreading deeper into my soul

I kept of waking up last night. Tossing and turning and coming in and out of weird dreams. It is as if the fabric weaving has been on my mind so much that now my thoughts and physical states are being weaved into another existence. Sounds weird, I know. I have only had a few sips of coffee so far. I don't recall any of the dreams, just the over all sense of oddness.

But changing note, I just received an email from one of my closest bests friends in the world. And she sent me a very interesting and thought compelling poem:

Percy Bysshe Shelley

“Ozymandias”

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things.
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away

 

What are your thoughts on Ozymandias?

the characters start to appear

...and they all tell a tale of transformation. 

The bear chants along to the beat of the morning sun. His essence pours out of his fur into a pink glow that surrounds him.

An aquatic being stares at the bubble that floats peacefully within the chaotics motion of the waves. His voice is silent, while the bubble shouts with fervor.

And perched on the lower branch of the living tree that sees all is an owl. A creature that is beckoned to observe when other eyes are not upon the world. He transcends to another form, another being that is light and free, a being that does not need to observe, but instead feel. 

Transformation

I have just recently started my project for the Cloth to Cloth class that I am taking, and the idea came to me as I was ripping the fabric. You could even say the colors spoke to me, and they told a tale of creation, of time, and of place. As I was weaving the pieces together, I thought what if instead of a place transforming and creating a creature time did. I am not talking about thousands of years and evolution. I am talking about a day/night shift. For example a bear during the day might look like a regular bear, but as the sun sways through the sky the bear changes..but into what?

what a mess of things...

Today is not a technically good day. My computer crashed and died a miserable death caused by a horrid virus. So I am writing to you from my husbands computer. Arghhh....Im a mess. I need to reorganize and organize my stuff...it is as if my mind is clouded because of the dust, clutter and piles that I am surrounded by..and it doesn´t help that I am trying to type with a german keyboard.

It feels as if this year, and by year I mean the past almost 12 months, are a parallel to what was not meant to happen. It is as if Something went wrong on the way and messe up and unravelled a whole set of occurances....maybe I´m crazy, but the world and life feels wrong at moments, especially when I get off track and let the mess take over. So I know what I have to do to make the world right..I need to get up and act. I need to stop the laziness and clear the air, let the fresh air in and breath it in. I need to allow the sunshine to shine in and warm up the room. I need to allow myself to see the daylight and enjoy it. I need to stop worrying. period. just let things be

I have been playing around with Spoonflower and am still trying to figure out how to create pretty designs. It all started with the idea of making a birthday present for my mother in law. I want to make her a table cloth with sunflowers. So I drew some flowers with bees

However, the paper that I used was too large for my scanner so part of it was chopped off and the edges are darker....so I have pretty much recreate it with photoshop, which I am learning to use. I also wanted to add some color to the flowers. However, photoshop was being temperamental...

The butterfly is for an animal book I want to make for Basti. I want to make different animal squares, and there will be three different categories, air, earth, and water animals. Maybe i can even make a baby quilt for my sister in law who is expecting with these panels. Here's hoping I figure out photoshop

dirt, gravel, and dust in the way

I am angry with the universe. I am angry because of all the dirty, gravel, and dust that has been trown my way for so long. I have forgotten what it is like to live in the light and tranquility of joy, of happiness. I am angry how just one phrase can release ones hope. I did not want my hope to be released out into the darkness of the universe. I wanted to keep it. I was mending it. I was bringing it back to life, but aparently the universe didn't find me fit enough...I hate how it under estimates me, and because of it I am fighting back. I am finally opening my Etsy shop to prove I can by my own hands, make things better. I will be listing more things as the day goes by. I will not except all the dirt, gravel nad dust that is being bombarded on top of me. I will not accept negativity, despair, or rage any more. I refuse to.
So if you, any of you support my art please tell other who may tell others or even stop by. Becuase I need to take a hold of what I want my future to be, happy, livable, and dust free.

I need to remove the pause and play to my own beat.

Thank you to anyone out there that is listening.
You are at war with my flows of the universe, and I am very determined!

folding and marking with time

I have always had a long lasting infatuation with hands. After the eyes I always look at a person's hands. They say so much about them. As they have said that the eyes are the gatway to your soul, your hands are the storytellers of your life. They tell you where you have been, what you have done, and in some beliefs where you are headed. They also tell you what type of person you are, your habits, your personality, your faults, your strengths. I for one am a person that likes to keep my hands hidden under a table, or in my pocket. I am a shy person after all.

I also loved wrinkled hands. it is as if each wrinkle is a forgotten journey into that persons life. Something has left a mark on them for their lifetime, and it is right there staring at me, wanting to tell me its tale.

I remember staring at my son's newborn hands. They were full of wrinkles. I imagined each line was a road he would take in his life. Maybe one would be the road he would take to meet his love. Another might be the road to his house, a familiar well travelled road, thus a deep wrinkle.

I have always liked looking at my mother's hands. They always seemed so delicate, graceful, and they are. Her hands make beautiful paintings, miniatures.

Or my grandma's Betty's hands, which were chubbier smaller hands with flexible fingers, ready to hold any book with one hand, as she held on to the wooden armrest of her her faded red rocker with the other. For some reason I always liked her left thumb the best...It seemed so independent, so bold with its perfectly manicured nail pointing towards the heavens. I miss her, and her hands...

What do your hands say about you?

By the way the image is of my latest conquest. Hands drawn on dark blue cardboard, which will be hand embroidered. The story is as follows:
 She held on tightly to the book that had saved her so many times before.
She caressed the worn leather in the familiar spots.
It felt soothing, comforting.
And as she exhaled an "Amen"
She joined the Everlasting.
Wooni

A degu and a cat...

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Isn't he just adorable? Well I was lucky enough to see several of them yesterday at Hela, my new favorite store that my husband was hidding from him. He would always run off th Bauhaus..yeah right, he was going to Hela where they sell decoative trinkets, hardware supplies, art supplies, and pets!!! And among the wide variety were the adorable degus.....Oh I would love to havea degu, but I have a trained squirrel hunter, so I doubt this cuddly creature will be coming to live with us any time soon :( or my other favorite animal, the cat.
My dogs hate cats with a passion.... and my son is now obssessed with cats, so I will be making one. Maybe even a degu...we shall see

Whispers for the Sun

 As a boy he had always been mystified by the sun. The sun seemed to summon him, beckon him to be its observer. He had felt a deep connection, a burning link that joined him to the sun. 

Every day he forces his eyes to watch it closely. He ignored the pain and the tears flowing down his cheeks. He desperately wanted to watch the swirling flows of color that created the Sun. They seemed to be alive, dancing and generating heat with their melodic and graceful movements.

One day, as he laid staring up at the sun, the messenger came. A fellow being of the sky. His fur shone as brightly as the Sun, and seemed to also contain the melodic flows of light and color.

"One day you shall reach the sun." he said

"One day you shall join the flows of time and sound." 

And with that he disappeared.

The observer, now wrinkled and crooked with time held on to the words of the messenger. He had given his destiny great thought. He had asked himself many time how he could reach the sun. 

"A ladder" he thought, and spent the rest of his life building a ladder tall enough to reach the Sun. 

As his stiff hands pulled the ladder out to begin his climb up the messenger reappeared. 

"You only need your voice to reach the sun. Release your song and join the others. Your time has come to observe no more."

The observer observed one last time as he whispered his soul to the graceful Sun. He was one with all, and moved along with the melodic waves of his destiny.

By Wooni

My uncle's birthday is coming up, and I wanted to make him something special. I don't know if it is a good idea, but I tried to draw my aunt. Mind you it is a rough draft, with many imperfections. I know I have to redo her nose, her right eyebrow, and it is lacking the magnolias I want to have in the background. I was thinking of making a wall hanging. What do you think? Is it a good idea from my uncle...or not...

On another not, I have found yet another inspiring quilter in the spring edition of burda Patchwork magazine. Her name is Jacqueline Heinz. I cannot seem to find that many pictures of her artwork, so look for her stuff it is amazing what she has created. I would love to learn from this woman....amazing

Lost in the light

The light is blinding in my mind. Too many sparks, too many voices. Thousands of ideas, thousands of creations that are wanting to become physically present. But where do I start? I feel that there are too many paths that all look the same, and only one is the right one to take.

One at a time as i have always been told, but I have never been able to do that. I have always read more than two books at a time, done two tasks at the same time, written several stories at the same time.....and they usually end up the same way, half done. forgotten. I know I am afraid to complete and present a failing attempt and even there are many inspirational quotes stating it is better to fail that never attempt at all....they do nothing for me. they are words that lack the impact. I guess I will just have to force myself to change my mediocre ways and stick to something. I guess I finally have to find myself among the many false images I have of myself (the delicate flower, the angry demon, the whimsical dancer, the avid composer, the silent observer...) Am I all in one or one from all? Maybe I'm that quiet shy one hidden within the fibers of my corpus callosum. I'll find her...she has been warned.
I hope you don't mind my ramblings...just some mind searching :)

Geronimo Fluffington

I found myself in a particular mood where it was only necessary to make Geronimo Fluffington, a sheep that wants to join the circus. He is a big sheep as you can all see with dreams as big and fluffy as his wool. One day as he was grazing the same old fields with his fellow sheep he saw the circus driving into the neighboring village. He saw the strong man, the bearded woman, and he knew that was where he belonged..... His first attempt was to become a fellow strong man, but his size was deceiving. Underneath all that wool was body full of blubbering joy.

More on his attempts to join later.....