It is always of interest to me how the jet lag plays out. I am utterly functional and can do pretty much everything, but I get tired at odd hours, and occasionally wake at inopportune times, but one of the things I notice most is how hard it is for me to settle into making.
And so it has proven once again. My mind has been turning over lots of new ideas and plans, but the sitting down and starting takes time. I have happily researched and investigated, purchased some things like Letraset, been on the hunt for old wooden cotton reels and the like, but the actual doing? Not so much.
These cotton reels have got me thinking...and I would love to find some more of the taller ones so am having a happy time sticking my nose into every charity shop or collectable shops and sorting through the haberdashery. As an aside, before we left a friend told me about a friend of hers, who volunteers at a haberdashery op shop. An op shop/charity shop just for haberdashery and sewing notions! What a splendid idea.
Out our bedroom window each night, the sky is always worth a look, especially this portion of the hill with the fence line. I keep looking at it and wondering what it is trying to tell me. The best I have done so far is it feels like the fence is stitching the land to the sky. As if it is joining the celestial to the corporeal. There is something in there I want to explore... just not sure exactly what it might be.
I have been thinking about containing small amounts of text in 5cm x 5cm squares. I started out with just my handwriting in capitals, and then turned the square around and over wrote it. It makes an interesting texture. Very dense. Completely illegible. Looks a bit scary. Not sure it is saying what I want it to say just yet.
This is pretty typical of this time. Things are saying something, but I am not yet grasping them. Or I am not yet able to get them to say the right things! This too shall pass.
I have drawn some lines in the next square for my next thought...
And so, instead, I continue to look at the landscape, soak in the softness and the light and get inspired in so many different ways.
The cottage with the hillside of crocosmia/montbretia we have planted dazzling and bright.
Sunlight on the hay and the crofts. More fence lines...
Looking out along a headland.
The late evening sun caught this line of cloud above the hill line. It was like a bright torn edge of some paper. Or worse - like a fire pouring over the hill.
And bringing some of the garden into the cottage.
Softly, softly. Gently, gently. The making will return.
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