Firsts

 Charlie was delighted with the idea of comics being tucked in with each piece of gum. 

After I commiserated with him (he can't have gum due to some fancy dental work) I showed him the real fun of bubble gum. So glad I kept the camera on him.

Spirits

 ... Ghosts. Souls. 

    There are a lot more names for the Others in English alone. More beautiful names in other languages. Fantasma, esprit, iwin. Every culture in the world acknowledges the existence of the energy that animates us. Shadows that ripple, the scent of magnolias in December, and the feeling that you are not alone when you are the only one in the room. Figures in the cloth. 

Animals know. Why struggle to explain? They just are. 

I've been struggling for a little while with the new story. Not writer's block, but a lack of "why". An internet rabbit hole took me to a British police procedural from 2015 titled "River" starring Stellan Skarsgard. He's a police detective trying to solve the brutal murder of his female partner. 

Her ghost and others will not give him a break. I don't usually binge on TV but the timing was right and I absorbed all six episodes. The writers seemed hell bent on making River seem or feel that he was broken. All of the spirits had various coy axes to grind. 

Would it ever occur to anyone that displaced souls might be mostly clueless as to their purpose? Still and all, I gave the show a solid A. Did not want to sue anyone to recover my afternoon/evening. 

Here I was critiquing an old TV show when I remembered that my two main characters do not have to advance the story all on their own. I had forgotten about the ghosts! I felt like someone just handed over the large handful of pieces that were missing from a thousand piece jigsaw. 

Now to put them to work and, maybe, finally wise them up. 

Moonlight

 

Country comfort

 All Souls in the grove and then a road trip to pick Charlie up from school and stay over.  

A backyard campfire just for the good company and s'mores.

I'm glad the pictures have been telling the story because I have been putting words elsewhere. 

I also find I'm doing more listening than talking these days.

The world often leaves me speechless except for some lackluster swearing. 

The colors of stone

 

Hunter Moon by Colin

Camilla 

I went to the dye table with the colors of New England in my head. What I got turned out like carnival clown barf, except for these. 

This is Raven with a touch of Marigold and Deep Space for balance.

Some are darker, others lighter. I have about twenty skeins close cousins of these two and will post them for sale. The rest? 

Over-dyeing on the kitchen table eventually.