I am reflecting on the difference between conscious and intermittent thought patterns. I thought I was just going to be able to put the small pieces of fabric together and it would turn into this amalgamated piece. But its impossible, even with the tiniest bits, not to look at the color.
When Spring arrives, my thoughts turn more and more to the colors outside, rather than the deep memory colors from midwinter. The sun, the spring
Light. I have been doing a lot of thinking about light and darkness, contemplation, placements, and the moon, particularly in the closing of this balsamic
