Unwrapped from the shibori pole silks are steam set
All stations are full, I move on to sewing and serging black and white while. While it's not color, my forte, there have been requests. This back and white will soon become a caftan jacket.
Stage 9 Pondering
Honeyrose stares up at the trees. Her colors are brilliant, precise and in immaculate order. “When ideas sift and filter,” she says, “words penetrate your soul, the place where intimacy grows. Then you can . . .”
“Listen to your body,” Clove chimes in.
Honeyrose nods, “And speak what you know.” She affirms.
Sitting down on an old sycamore stump her voice softens. “Authority,” she continues, “is to articulate with passion—using your power tone—the stories only Garden Girls know.” Since Honeyrose is the woman I am to become, I listen very closely.
excerpt from my memoir, The Garden Girls Letters and Journal