“This is Day Four,” India pronounced ominously at the beginning of our class. Then she passed out chocolate frogs that she brought all the way from Australia as a preventative for any Day Four woes.
Day Four is when patience grows thin, things go awry, bodies get weary, minds get overwhelmed.
We stretch and do a centering exercise, as we have every morning. Dropping a stone in the mind pond. Ahhhhhh.
The dyepot produces unusual bright green hues this morning. Here are my bundles.
My workspace. The silk square on top produced the best plant prints. I twisted the bundle tightly before I tied it up.
Another fabric/paper sheet is sewn for an impromptu project. We were to sew a word onto each sheet. I chose “NSFW” (Not suitable/safe for work) because I was thinking “inappropriate” but that seemed too long to stitch in a hurry.
The project involved a trip to La Pointe Indian Cemetery, which is the subject of the next post.
Here is my little book just before I bundled it with a piece of lichen covered oak bark and some maple seeds. We finished stitching our dye samples together.
That evening, I finally got on a bike and C______ (I shall refer to her in the grand old Victorian fashion) and I pedaled to town where we had a marvelous meal of smoked lake trout on mashed roasted sweet potatoes and sweet snap peas and gazpacho at Cafe Seiche. Unfortunately the photos turned out fuzzy so no more food porn for you!
I had to walk through Tom’s Burned Down Cafe to take some photos, although we didn’t have a drink there. There is a wooden platform, there are some walls, there is a tarp, there is a junked car beneath the floor, there is a bar, and there are signs. Lots and lots of signs.