secret messages

"He watched as she stalked a wide, slow circle that took her all the way around the car. She was wearing something short and black. Magic again? Without taking his eyes off her, he took off his St. Christopher and hung it from the rearview. Gripping the steering wheel, he leaned forward, mesmerized.

She stopped a few paces in front of the car. Her hands reached for the stars, then she crouched low and brushed the wet grass with her fingertips. No candles, no incense. Then she spoke into the darkness like it was listening.

Hear me sisters, Fire, Wind, Water and Earth, in all your names and guises.

Light the watchtowers for us. Hold back the night.

I ask cover from all quarters.

Bless us this circle and we within."

He’d covered the cracked plastic upholstery with a plaid flannel blanket. Like a bird on a wire, she perched on the edge of the seat. He reached under the dash, a motor whirred, and the patched convertible top lifted slowly, folding back on itself.

“You got it fixed!” The sky was clear, full of stars, and cooler, less humid air washed over them. They were in some kind of clearing; the grass manicured. “Where are we?”

“A golf course.” Jack looked around, pleased with his choice. “Listen. When I called before, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. To talk, you know?”

He was about to light a joint, but she took it from him and tucked it into the ashtray, then put her fingertips on his lips. She couldn’t say ‘fuck’ and wouldn’t say ‘make love’. He sucked her fingers into his mouth, then they stripped each other out of their clothes. The confines of the front seat of the Skylark was nothing to two people hell-bent on taking up the same space.

"Prophets Tango"  by Deborah Lacativa 2021

good night

embarrassment of riches

This is a deep basket!

I'm going to be putting these up in sets of four and six. Curating is the fun part. I'll post them to the Dirty Threads page as time permits.

If you have any colorway requests, email me.

Now all I have to do is keep my hand out of the candy jar.

building the moon

 A very old piece of damask that had been dyed, discharged and coveted for years convinced me that, no, the moon doesn't have to be a perfect circle.


How it looks is all in where you are standing the moment you look up. I have some silver and gold metallic threads, but I'm going to hold off on those until the very last minute.

Being mindful that the moon casts no light of its own. It can only reflect.

Night garden at sunrise

The better to actually see what I'm doing.
There's going to be a lot going on in this sky. A lot of handling, moving the hoops around.

To protect the central gardens, I've rolled the bottom two-thirds of the piece up and stitched the roll in place for a while. Hope I don't lose sight while I work in the clouds.

It's easy enough to do, no matter what medium you work in.

While I'm stitching,  I'm thinking through issues my incredible beta reader has pointed out. Places in my writing where I've obsessed over the right word, forgetting the purpose of the passage.

I've done that with stitching too many times to think about.

When it gets down to agonizing over spearing the warp or the weft, I need to put the work down and take a break. It's Friday after all.

Satisfaction

There it is, J. Those greens I've been casting for.

I've always been a sucker for jewel tones. Who isn't.

This lot was outside drying on the picnic table while I was a half-hour away heading into this. A second rinse wouldn't have been terrible, but now I can get back to the Garden.

Not fail away

I finally took about one hundred skeins out onto the dye deck. What a messy disappointment. All I can claim is madness in the midday heat.

I saved maybe a dozen. The rest of the motley crew will get a second chance, but they may have to wait. It was one hundred degrees outside today. 

The green in the foreground below is eluding me.

.

The rest of today was spent at the wet office with friends. Then, I got to pick up my buddy from aftercare. We chilled with popsicles, cartoons, and tales of kindergarten adventure.

Stillness

A little too much time stitching and listening to music.



I need to flip melancholy the bird and get up to no good for a few hours. This house is so quiet. Empty.

the view

My view from the stitching chair.

One of these days, I'm going to yank out that screen and clean the glass.











As for bad pictures, I had one job on Monday and I botched it.

Thank goodness his Mom was on the ball.

On Wednesday, he told me the best thing about kindergarten was No Naps!

"What do you do instead?"
"Right after lunch, we go back to teaching."

I'm so jealous.

not quite shopkeeping

Working my way up to a dye day, but somehow, pool time keeps taking precedence. It is the wet office, after all. This one at JK's condo rarely seems to have anyone in it but us. I'm pretty sure the water has crack dissolved in it, instead of chlorine.

I'm still adjusting to my new schedule. Sleeping until I wake up, instead of to a 5:15 alarm feels slothful, but I get a lot done before first light. Then, I'm in the stitching chair for an hour or so.

Yesterday, after half the day in the water,  I updated the Dirty Threads and the Fat Baggies pages with the latest inventory and new pictures of the cloth churn.

late SUNday

The skies cleared and the sun broke through. As I stepped out onto the high deck for these pictures, I almost caught a whiff of fall, like a ghost who runs out of the room the minute you step in.