Tag: scrying cloth

trusting the process

the images appear
and i birth
them in cloth.
though i seldom
know what
at the outset,
the cloth>
has something
to tell me.


i thought this one
a type of
dual existence,
an inside/outside


i thought
the straight
light green lines
along each edge,
putting one foot
in front of the other,
to the world
as normal,
all right.


the colorful
scattered stitches

i thought it
was a
self portrait,
if you want to
know the truth.

but today,
as i sorted
and sifted
and began
to ready
and our home
thanksgiving upcoming,
when my brain
thought it was
okay to
doze off,
my eyes
fell upon
this photo
i took months ago
while on a

and i wonder.

actually i don’t
at all.
once again
i am reminded
that there is
no one

my declaration of independence


i declare my independence from self-deprecating humor that’s used only as a non-threatening tool designed to subjugate myself so that others might listen to what i have to say. i pledge my allegiance to using my true, authentic voice, trusting that even when using my native language of humor, i will clearly express what i’m experiencing.

i declare my independence from the stories i’ve conjured or constructed or otherwise bought into, using them to protect me or aggrandize me. i pledge allegiance to birthing and living fresh, new stories that truthfully portray who i am now and who i want to become.

i declare my independence from living as though if i can do it, it is of no value. i pledge my allegiance to knowing (and living, accordingly) that the tasks i tend to regularly, and the things i create, have value and sometimes – every now and then – that value is expressed in terms of money.

i declare my independence from the notion that doubt is always and categorically a bad thing. and i pledge allegiance to give doubt a voice, a chance to be heard, realizing that sometimes doubt has much to say that i need to hear.

i declare my independence from the need to always present as positive and perky. upbeat. i pledge my allegiance to honesty, to risk revealing the lows and less-thans, trusting that doesn’t enkindle an irrepressible need-to-fix response from others.

i declare my independence from planning something right out of existence before ever getting started. and i hereby pledge allegiance to trusting my lizard brain more often.

it’s scrying time again

we’re snowed in, living on a diet of popcorn and oreos. oops – scratch that. husband just finished the last oreo. looks like it might be another 2 days before we can get out of the driveway, or so says my husband who looks forward to being snowed in, but is quite susceptible to early-onset cabin fever.


i am seldom without my computer
and never without a pen, paper,
and all the bits of cloth and thread
i can get in a quart-size zip-loc bag.

for a change of pace,

i picked up thread and cloth.
the in and out,
the over and under
creates a soothing rhythm,
a salve for my soul.
it grounds me in my matriarchal lineage,
it is the calamine lotion to my inarticulate itch.

here on planet jeanne,
the beginning of a cloth piece
strangely resembles
the beginning of a word piece.

first: the itch
followed closely by: the yearning,
an unnamed longing.
then comes the pondering and circling;
then, finally
finally: the starting.
beginning with only the vaguest notion of what i am trying to create,
the barest whisper of what i am going to say.

Where in the world is The 70273 Project? Please add a pin to show us where you are in the world. (1) Click the + sign in upper righthand corner of map. (2) Enter your first name only. (3) Enter your city/state. (4) Using the pins at the bottom of the map, select a marker based on how you are involved. (5) Select preview to see before posting. (6) Select submit to post. Please add a marker for each role you serve in The 70273 Project.

Support The 70273 Project

Allow me to introduce myself . . .

Hey, Sugar! I'm Jeanne Hewell-Chambers: writer ~ stitcher ~ storyteller ~ one-woman performer ~ creator & founder of The 70273 Project, and I'm mighty glad you're here. Make yourself at home, and if you have any questions, just holler.

special delivery: get blog posts hot off the press


© 2024 Jeanne Hewell-Chambers’ Barefoot Heart

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑