As October fades into November, there is a sense of ending, finishing, finality.
The last of fall's glory lies mouldering in the shallows, the show is over, the closing credits are almost done, and the world lies waiting.
There is nothing more to do - the growing is complete, seeds scattered, leaves fallen, the cycle ended, and nature seems suspended in a sort of trance. Waiting for winter, for a blanket of snow to give closure to summer's skeletal remains... waiting for the next big thing, just..... waiting.
Themohair/silk (sold out - sorry):
There is some wool-silk laceweight coming, too, but it is taking its own sweet time.
It opens up so many possibilities for painting colourways beyond the semi-solid - I think I'm going to spend the next couple of weeks playing with this idea exclusively. Sunsets, fall foliage, wildflower meadows... my head may explode.