the scent of night-time flowers has been a journey in remembering things forgotten while traveling on a new path.
the shape of the unseen, a shade of feeling, the internal caress of night scented air, a memory from some distant time.
the act of stitching so old it is in the fibers of our DNA, thread games of peek -a -boo are played out as the needle guides the thread in and out of the cloth.
the process of becoming, one stitch at a time.
in honoring the process of learning new things and being sympathetic to the chaos of becoming.
ever-present yet unseen, the other side of cloth.
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