The river on one side of the road, fields on the other, then across a lift bridge and the perspective reversed. It's still like that, as I discovered on trips with my sisters in the last several years. So here is the delta of the fictional Cinnamon River, named for the linen sashing I made from a yard-sale pantsuit. The branching river flows through the handwoven rectangles of the fields. It is studded with beaded sandbars. The whole making experience was very evocative--I did enjoy it a lot more than I enjoyed those family trip so many years ago. The veil of nostalgia, I suppose.
Now, on to the next. I received a box of worn linen napkins and tablecloths from friends (which has been sitting in the studio for several months). This week I set up the indigo pot and dyed them all. Now to figure out how to use the blue pile. I've been invited to have a solo exhibition at a local gallery some time in the next 12 months, so this is an opportunity to make some smaller and (I hope) saleable works to include in that.