Chiming in
It was during that in-between space, in the middle of the night when she turned over in her sleep and she heard: Tell the story as if you are journeying on the chime. It kept coming back to her in the following days.
Thread
Working in her studio, she held a threaded needle of golden silk between her fingers. As she created a random seed-stitch pattern on a natural weave fabric swatch, she noticed its journey.
Reach up, rise up, then hover and shift… then descend, slowly, swooshing through to the other side, deep dive, float a little, then up, push up, reach up, reach through, and rise again… It’s like breathing—reaching up on the inhale, waiting a moment, descending on the exhale, floating a little, then reaching up again—and in the process imprinting ourselves on the earth in our own pattern.
Leaves
She wanted to use the rust-cinnamon colored leaves for the healing chime, but they had all developed a dull weathered look over time. She knew just how to accentuate their beauty. Painting golden spirals brought out a delicate, almost ancient look.
The sunbeams from her studio window would catch the spirals just so and tiny glints would shimmer back, she noticed. The past is hazy and weather worn, and when your gaze is cast there and quivering images reflect back, notice what becomes illuminated in the present…
Fabric
The malty-sand colored cotton fabric was a calm respite for her eyes. The even rhythm of the warp and weft, the slight lift and dip, the gentle over and under as she wandered along in her imagination. The stability of the place, with its horizontal and vertical lines, just let her be.
But there were bumps and odd sorts of things there, too. Be open and carefree in this wondrous expanse and explore all around. And when sometimes you feel too exposed or uncomfortable, seek refuge along the edges and with others.
As she was finishing up the last touches of her chime, she couldn’t help but think that, once again, it doesn’t actually make any sound. So can it really be called a chime? As she mused about it, she recalled that middle-of-the-night whisper: Tell the story as if you are journeying on the chime.
Something was certainly chiming in, her own voice sounding in her mind, journeying with her along thread, leaves, and fabric.
Materials: The hand-spun and natural hand-dyed silk thread and handwoven natural cotton fabric were made in Laos by women who are master spinners, dyers, and weavers, some of whom I’ve been honored to meet. The yellow dye is either from marigold flowers or jackfruit tree wood. The stick is Crepe Myrtle tree bark, the leaves are unknown, and both were lovingly gathered in my neighborhood.
“Chiming in” was originally published as an exclusive post to my Ko-fi supporters in Febrary 2023. Now it is public to you, too!
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