Maria Wulf Full Moon Fiber Art

A New Batch Of Potholders

For the past few days, I was so tied, didn’t want to get out of bed.   But today I woke up full of energy and ready for the day.  I started by stacking some firewood then spent the rest of the day designing potholders.

The last batch I made sold out quickly, so I figured it was time to make some more.

I began with the hearts and eggs. I think they’re all sold already.  I had a few people ask about them the last time I used that same fabric. I told them I’d make some more and now this the last of it.

After that, I moved on to the pink and black butterflies and eggs on the top left. Like the hearts and eggs, I like the combination of butterflies and eggs together.  Although the images are very different it the subject matter I would find in my Image Of The Goddess book.

The hummingbirds were tough because the fabric they were on was so pretty and perfect just as it was.  So instead of making them better, which I knew I couldn’t, I tried to make them mine.

There are also butterflies on the same piece of fabric, but I didn’t get to them.  It came in a box that Judy sent me. She needed to make some space in her sewing room.  It’s as if she curated the fabric just for me.  Some great Potholder fabric and other colors and patterns that I can easily use.

So many of you have sent me so much wonderful fabric in the past month that I need to rearrange my shelves to make room for it.  But I’m too inspired by it all and don’t want to take the time to do it.  I think I’ll just keep working instead.

Spiderweb Sunbird, A Sixty Second Meditation

There’s a space in the barn between the doors we never open and the bales of hay where hidden things happen.

It’s in this space that I found Minnie after she was attacked and lost part of her leg.  It’s also a place where the hens lay their eggs in a clutch when they get broody.

Although for me it feels like a forgotten or neglected space, lives are lived and die there.  Things go on that I will never know.

Sometimes, like today, I remember to look.

When I did, the sun was leaking through the cracks in the barn boards lighting up the spiderwebs that criss-cross the space.  The breeze caused them to bob and bounce.

One web caught my eye because it looked to me like a bird in flight.

Birds In The House

The drawing I did in the little book the Kitty gave me

Feeling better but still off, now my brain was fuzzy too.  So I thought I’d take advantage of my soft thoughts which where having  a hard time forming, to start something new.  Not thinking can be key to creativity.

I had no ideas, so began by looking through my old quilts.  They have made the perfect backings for my fabric paintings in the past. I chose three, kept one face up and turned the other two over so there were two shades of quilted white to work with.

Then I looked at them.

I rejected the one face up and focused on the other two. I looked at the textured surfaces and what came to mind was a drawing I did, a few months ago, in the little book that Kitty gave me.

It was the couch and the birds that came back to me.  There’s something about the birds flying around in the house as if they belong there that appeals to me.

So I found the drawing and focused on the couch first. I knew I wanted to stitch it using my free-motion sewing machine, but first I wanted to make sure I knew how I wanted to draw it.  The couch in the drawing is the one in our living room. So I went into the house and did a drawing.

I wanted to have a feeling for it because I’d be stitching directly onto the piece of fabric that I’d be using for the fabric painting. But I didn’t want to draw the couch on the fabric first.  I wanted it to have the spontaneity and freshness of being stitched directly.

If my brain was foggy before I began, it was numb by the time I got done.  This is as far as I got, but it’s a beginning.

A Day Of Sleeping and Reading

The Robin’s Nest in the low bush

Fate and Zinnia run under the Japanese Honeysuckle ahead of me.  It’s the perfect height for them, but I’d have to crawl to get through it.  I’ve been ducking under that bush for years, it’s one of the archways that lead me further into the Orphaned Woods. But now it’s lower than usual.

When I get closer I see the dead branch that fell on top of the bush pushing it down.  It’s only as I reach to remove the branch that I see the robin’s nest and four bright blue eggs.

The blue is like neon among all the spring greens that color the woods.  I can’t take my eyes off them.  For the first time, I wonder why they are so blue.  Then I snap out of it.  The mother must be nearby, waiting for me to leave.  I take a picture and walk carefully around the bush.

That was a few days ago.

Today I’m laying on the couch spending my time reading and sleeping.  My stomach is queasy and I’m too tired to do much more than feed the animals and throw the fabric that Judy and Fran sent me into the washer and dryer.

I tell myself that if I rest today, I’ll feel better tomorrow.  And I believe it.

I’m halfway through Suzanne Simard’s book Finding The Mother Tree, Discovering The Wisdom Of The Forest.   It’s a memoir about Simard’s discoveries of how the trees in the forest are connected by a network of fungus that transport nutrients, minerals, and water between them.

I don’t get all the science, but I do get the essence of what she is writing about.

It’s because of this book that this year I planted the ten saplings that I got from The Arbor Day Society in the woods close to other trees instead of in a clearing as I’ve done in the past.

The place I chose for them is in a grove of young Hornbeam trees.  Their smooth bark is so like the stretched muscles of an athlete that they always seem to be in movement to me.  The soil beneath them is moist and rich.   I planted a couple of the seedlings in the humus of a fallen birch.

I never thought of how seedlings grow in the shade of the trees around them.  That they need sunlight, but not a pounding sun.  And now I know that the saplings have a better chance of surviving when their roots grow mycorrhizal fungus which connects them to the roots of other trees and helps nourish them and even find water under the ground.

It is this network of fungus that all those mushrooms that I found in the woods last year grow from.

As I lay on the couch, reading about the old-growth forests in the mountains of British Columbia, I’m thinking of the woods behind the farm.

Tomorrow when I’m feeling better and I’m watering the saplings I’ll be wondering if they’re growing that life giving fungus on the tips of their roots.  And I’ll be thinking about the world below my feet as well as the one above.

Kitty And Anne Finding The Shade

The chicks under Jon’s chair.

I didn’t expect Jon to come home from the doctor with his foot bandaged up again.  He took it better than I did until heard that he wasn’t worried about it.  Then I let it go too and decided to be grateful instead.

I was sitting outside feeding Kitty and Anne sunflower seeds when Jon got home.  He joined me for a while, before retreating to his air-conditioned study.  The chicks found a safe cool spot in the shade of Jon’s rocker to spend some time.

I thought I’d be nervous about letting the chicks out.  But I could see from the first day that they had no interest in wandering too far.  There’s plenty for them to do and places for them to find shelter right in the yard behind the house. I imagine as they get older they’ll join up with the hens and wander where they do, along the edge of the road and into the barnyard and pastures.

For now, the two of them seem content to spend their time together coming around for sunflower seeds when they see me and going back to their crate at night.

 

Summer Quilt

Summer Quilt

Maybe it’s the heat that has made my brain dull. But I didn’t need much of it anyway today to tack my Summer Quilt.

Shaded by two giant maples, my studio was cooler than the house.  I listened to short stories on  Selected Shorts as I pulled the sage green yarn through the quilt and tied the knots.

I was tired today.  A little queasy so I took the day slow, napping twice.

In a way, it was the perfect day to finish my Summer Quilt, although not quite summer, it sure feels like it today.

I had a few people ask about buying this quilt.  I take the requests for my quilts in the order they come in.  If it doesn’t work for the first person, I offer it to the second and so on.

I hope I’ve given the four embroidered panels a fresh context among the small patchwork squares that allude to gardens and windows into another more abstract summer world.

Close-ups of the embroidered panels and their surroundings…

 

 

The back of Summer Quilt.

Full Moon Fiber Art