MY WORLD ~ End of the Affair ... 'Enfoldments'

The last chapter of our 'Enfoldments' retreat/workshop.
gloating over the books we had made - they unfold in four
directions to hold words of wisdom, wit or whimsey, drawings,
doodles or diagrams or whatever else takes our fleeting fancy
and in the end shows us who we are.
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India had one more surprise in store for us, in the late afternoon
we stitched onto flimsy prefelts, covering them on both sides for

stability, wetting them and felting them a little and thoughtfully

gathering more windfalls for their dye process, this time as a

farewell to this beautiful place we had worked in.
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Just before dark, our bundles went into yet another witches'

cauldron to soak up the magic over night.

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In the early morning we did the ritual circling of the wolves

inspecting all our fished out bundles
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and again after finding our own by the string we had made on

the firt evening and our individual wrapping technique, and

spreading it out for all to see.
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Pegging them on the line and yet again admiring our handiwork.
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The finished product:- my little book nestling on its travelling

cloak ready for additions on other journeys.
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The sorceress at right with her able assistant on the chapel

steps having farewelled her students after a job well done.

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It still amazes me how India, being well centered herself could,

in her quiet way take a disparate grup of women and by tranquil

stitching, folding, felting and dyeing and making string, imbue

them all with her own inner peace.
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Shadow Shot Sunday ~ A Life Changing Experience, Part 1

Last week I happily spent as a student, not only that, but
the old hen learning from her own chick.
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Let me preface this by saying that I am rather a hermitic loner
than a group animal and spending a week as one of a flock of
18 women made me quake in my boots.
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The retreat/workshop sat snugly amongst the old and new
buildings of Glenbarr station on the ourskirts of Strathalbyn.
A homestead of the early 1840's. Sleeping quarters were
spartan and unheated, ablution block communal and
unfortunately a constant weangle with management for
adequate supplies of loo paper!
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Below, a lovely lady arriving and heading to the old converted
stables that now were pressed into service as kitchn and dining
hall with one tiny little heater to keep out the chill.
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The diverse and sometimes rather peculiar dietary requirements
for some of the ladies made us all vegetarians for the week, ably
catered for by my 18 year old granddaughter who throughout
the week alternated as country chef and city actress with long
and tiring travel distancens in between.
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The Workshop was entitled "Enfoldments" and guided ever
so gently by India Flint, Botanical alchemist, author and fibre
artist extrordinaire.
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After a delicious dinner, a glass or two of wine and a little of
'getting to now you', India brought out a heap of natural fibre
shreds, silk, wool cotton etc. and showed us in her quiet way
how to take a piece and with nothing but our fingers, make
strong durable string.
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Since we had no idea what it was for, we could not encumber
it with our expectations and just concentrated on strength.
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Above, the uncertainty of beginning . . . .
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below, a little technical advice from the delightful and ever
helpful Jenni.
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After a freezing night, a lovely dawn and a new beginning.
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In the old stable walls the rifle slits are still preserved for warding

off attacks by spear wielding Aborigines whose land the Scottish

settlers had bought from the government.

Rather an unequal battle, guns against a few spears protecting

the land of their ancestors.
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Next exciting episode and many more pictures to follow.
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Posted as part of Shadow Shot Sunday, hosted by Tracy at Hey Harriet.

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Shadow Shot Sunday ~ Where Dreams are Made

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From this Sunday I will go to a retreat where I hope the curtain
will at least move a little if not lift a corner. Will return next Friday
with, I hope, a little book of the journey to show for my efforts.
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Some friends and I in the fowl yard, were they shadowing me
or I shadowing them?
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Thanks to Tracy at Hey Harriet we all have a chance to
show our shadows.
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