one thing leads to another, from colour to white and back again

this small oak-wood cupboard found in my husband's grandparents' house, or rather in the stable attic (he comes from a farming family) was passed onto me and was transformed by me into this colourful cabinet, containing treasures bought and found; I see it every day without actually noticing it and only thought to photograph it after seeing Grace's photo's of her altar plus the fact that we're focusing on white in the class over at Jude's and as is often the case, when you're supposed to be focusing on one thing 'white', your mind (or at least mine does) tends to wander all over and see not only white, but also black colours contrasts shades shadows textures.....searching looking finding
With the seeing-mode switched on,  I noticed these beautiful traces on this chunk of wood, whilst for necessity's sake sawing wood for the woodburner; in the spirit of What If I decided to save it and try and use it as a printing block on white fabrics:

although the fabric hasn't remained white I am happy with the results and will continue to use this new found technique; the white paint on the white cloth didn't work: I know that now; of course I can try white paint on off white or a very pale grey et cetera.... 
'texticolor' from Sennelier, excellent fabric paint 

fabric wrapped around wood and pressed into the traces

paint on wood

only the green left it's mark, the white paint is untraceable


O!.......i just love your MIND.
and those marks. oh Jeez.
those marks on the wood. due
to circumstance, when i was a child i spent the majority of my life down by the creek, quite far from the house, down a big big hill. in the woods. on the bank of the creek. ALONE. and it was where i actually, "lived". i had to go back up to the house, to "those people" because i was a child, but the creek was where my life took place. and how many times, i would wander these woods looking for logs such as this that had
from my
real people.
i would study these markings, "read" them and they would tell me reassuring things, tell me i was not really lost from them.
when building the fence, the original fence here, my dead husband's friend Louie helped. and he had a littl crush on me. he liked my old hippy stories about where i was from. and somehow i told him about those messages down by the creek. and one day i came home from work and there, just outside the West window was a post. huh? and when i looked, i burst into tears. there, a Message!!!!! i had not seen such messages since coming to New Mex. i didn't think they existed here. but there they were on a log from up in the mountains.
Louie had brought it and put it there he said so i'd know i wasn't really lost.
Saskia said…
well that makes two of us: 'cos I love your mind as well!! and isn't that just SomethingGrand Louie leaving you this sign-post and we are not lost Grace we are not lost;

I'll tell you about how my husband and I met: we literally bumped into each other (it was late 2 in the morning and we'd had too much to drink, but that is beside my point) and we kissed, a real kiss with tongue and when we stopped kissing I asked him his name(and that was beside the point as well! 'cos we'd already connected) and he asked me mine and so we knew each other's name and we had a drink just to be polite and he was visiting with friends in the town where I lived and I invited him over to come stay with me and I took him on the back of my bike to my home and that was the beginning of a love story, which continues to this day; and the point here is: I asked him what if we hadn't met there? he always answers: we would have gone on looking until we found each other: we are not lost
Anonymous said…
oh! another wonderful story! I love what the worm tracks (beetle tracks?) have done to your cloth... a lovely way to work with what is barely there, and to use your deep connection to nature... it almost looks like writing.

Technical question - will you 'fix' the paint in any way?
Saskia said…
oh blushing here Dee;-)
The tracks are made by parasites/parasitic insects, as far as I know and they damage the trees, sometimes even killing them because the bark comes off as do the tree's defences, sad but true.
You know beauty is sometimes cruel.
technical answer: I'll fix the paint with ironing as prescribed by paint manufacturer, although to be honest the paint is so darn strong it cannot be washed out if you tryed
you cannot know
cannot know
how important a happy ending or
just your case
is to me.

sometimes it doesn't work that way.
but still...there is the Just Going.
and still
the learning.
but when it turns out GLAD, great is That?

how many i have kissed, with tongue. and still do. in my dreams.
Nancy said…
Such wonderful stories here (Grace I would have cried too). Today when I went out to photograph my apricot tree and bulb in bloom...I noticed 'my' log has a letter of it's own!! I'll add it to my post Saskia.

I just really love coming here!
Saskia said…
Grace & Nancy: your coming here and commenting means the world to me! Sharing is too important, even if at first you think: too personal etc. Sharing is the gift we have for eachother
Nancy said…
Saskia~ I posted my log and it's story so you could see :)
Thanks for the inspiration!
Els said…
Prachtige afdrukken Saskia !
Saskia said…
dank je Els, ik ga dit nog vaak herhalen.......



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