There’s a certain kind of day in early early spring–a day like today–when it’s absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to stay out of the dirt. The feeling is ancient, primordial. The need. To feel the cold soil. To smell the earth. To cradle seeds in the palm before sowing. I’m in a different planting zone now, here in NC, but I trust that instinct that arises and says NOW. Do this NOW. And so today mulch was pulled back and beet and spinach seeds entered the earth. And the snow peas are UP. Today. The beginning of another growing season.
And I’ve started a new piece. Wanting to use some of the fabric I dyed last summer and fall. Fabrics are mostly linen–except for the found cotton used on the birds–and dyes were from pomegranate/indigo/rust/black walnut–and I think that’s it. My record keeping is non-existent. I keep telling myself I’ll remember what I used, what I did–ha. Maybe this year I’ll write stuff down? So anyway. Today. Another beginning. No idea where it’s going but I’m calling it Primordial Soup.