I’ve never really like crowds. But now, unlike in my pre-bloody brain life, I can’t tolerate them. I can’t process high volumes of information in a timely fashion. All data comes in with equal value, whether it is a loud shriek or a soft murmur. All colors seem garish, blinding, and all tactile input is harsh to the touch. Everything is a blur, without shape, chaotic. I can’t make order out of the chaos. I have nothing to anchor me and my incoherent thoughts. My brain lacks the ability to file information away under recognizable labels.
Gus’s a funny little thing, a mutt, smarter that I could have imagined. He teases me, changing the rules of games as we play, laughing at me from the top of the steep hill in my back yard, squeaking his toy as he tries to tempt me to clamber up the slippery slope to wrestle the toy away from him.
Roaming the vendor hall during a weaving conference, an intriguing pillow case caught my eye. I stopped at the booth to examine it. It looked as though it was a patchwork of four differently colored handwoven patches with invisible joins. I studied it closely—they were definitely not sewn together. It was more like an invisible … Read more
When the editor of Selvedge Magazine (https://www.selvedge.org) showed interest in my journey to WARP, I didn’t need to think about it—the words were right there, ready to spill over onto the page. WARP, an acronym for Weave A Real Peace, is a networking organization (https://weavearealpeace.org) many of whose members include textile artists and textile aficionados, … Read more