The morning after Patty and I worked and played in that sanctuary I was back with another dear friend Shiela. We had a nice long walked. The weather had shifted. A storm was brewing. We were still in the balance between winter and her time of death. It was still cold. There had just been that brief break in the storm but now it was back to winter's business. New life and spring were far off again.

I was still keen about more work with my textiles outside and finding the right barns for installation. I was getting great encouragement from Ian, Rich and Patty. Meeka also wanted to participate. I finally had an idea that I believed to help show the beauty in the broken down barns, the beauty of the aged, the beauty of the end of the years, the beauty of a certain type of death and ending that comes to histories. There was a poetry there I hoped to find and exhibit.

A marriage of fiber and natures wood whether natural or turned. And the relationship between abstract and realism. And most importantly the dance between new and old / life and death.

A balance of so many thoughts that run through my mind.