writing, and weaving

by walterdoege

while I try to not choose the perfect words and phrases…everytime when I am capable to not think so much…not waste my time…and spend my time in good labor with good will…fell trust in human goodness…sense I am alive…sense gratitude… I can write something…I have some  sense of my own craft and some instruments…the threads…the words…the ongoing phrases…and the final writing is like some weavering work…some embroidery text I can see and read…today, with a red and blue thread, I weavered: I love…and that dishcloth is now in my kitchen…also, I am painting some portraits for Easter…I am not a painter, but writing seems a kind of painting weavered joy