Roots, rooted. It came to me as I meditated this morning.
Carol gave me the print of her beet and carrot batik years ago. I’ve never stopped thinking about.
This morning it came to me and stuck. When I got to my studio I tied to let it go, thinking of green, but red kept coming back.
The beet like a heart that grows underground and stains your hands when you cut it. The joyful carrots, the second chakra, just above the grounded beet, creativity and sensuality.
I pulled the deep reds, the bright reds, oranges and a thin line of pink from my shelves. I’ve had the embroidered birds even longer than Carol’s beet batik.
I did more today, but didn’t get a picture of the unfinished piece. I’m not sure where the orange painted pant leg (not pictured) will go yet, top or bottom of the beets and carrots.
I’ll know for certain tomorrow.
