This pile of raffia and twisted paper was waiting to Become Something earlier today. On my Brighid Flame list, there's a Brighid dolly swap going on. Dollies are made at Brighid or Imbolc or Candlemas or Groundhog Day ~ choose a name, doesn't much matter because it's the same day ~ as soul-ar emissaries for the coming year. Maybe she would hold your dreams while they incubate. Maybe she could be the Silent Witness to your frustrations and sadness. Maybe she'll argue with you regarding recent developments in your life. The thing of it is she's meant to be with you for only one year and then she takes your dreams, words and arguments with her in a purifying flame, completely immolated, ashes.
Ruth started this annual pilgrimage to the twisted paper aisle of AC Moore's ten (memory's sketchy here) years ago when women met at new moon circles. There was always plenty of materials on hand ~ fabric, beads, yarn, bits of this and that, the hot-glue gun. The table was laden with food and drink, the house filled with laughter, secrets and warm embraces. The only thing there was never enough of: Time. Things might have started in the early evening, but 3:00 am came in the blink of an eye. I'd leave those meetings full of joy under twinkling early morning stars with my dolly for the year.
We hadn't been making dollies since Ruth moved. I missed those nights. I'm elated that we've taken it up again long distance and with swaps. This dolly will be going to Ruth. It's not done yet, so the results will still be a surprise. (So there, Ruth!)
Meanwhile, back at the easel . . . more painting.
As usual, I don't know what end of the Collective Unconscious Pool this came from ~ singing unknown joy and praises or the Technicolor barf? Need to sleep on it.
This lady turned up in the middle of my strange ocean . . .
And the blue hands have green tats . . .
Another fibery postscript: The Rambouillet is carding up quite nicely. I've noticed a difference in the soaps used on the fiber. Thinking that it would be better, I'd initially used Dr. Bronner's Lavender liquid soap. It kept a fair amount of the lanolin on the wool, which I don't mind, but it didn't clean out the dirt very well. Dr. Bronner's is great for many instances, just not wool scouring. I then switched over to Ecover dishwashing liquid. Cleaner wool that still had enough oils to feel juicy. Me and the Millie have been enjoying ourselves immensely.
And, now it's time to tend two ailing bantam roosters in the downstairs bathroom. That's another story better saved for a couple of glasses of wine.