Pictoral Scramble

From a random dip into the cache of two thousand and nine, out came a mix of the seasons. I have always liked those birds in the cage. Day off today. Between the coffee guzzling, light maintenance and repair reading and note taking, I have a river of fabric flowing through the main room and pooling at my feet in the kitchen. Four meters is a lot of anything. Time to sew. Last night I finally got my darkroom in gear. Well, into a state that I am inspired to work within. Creme and I hauled furniture, reconfigured, unplugged and organized the state of his own basement darkroom and the finished product along with the last look at him grain finding underneath his behemoth Fuji enlarger as I climbed the stairs made me hungry for my own process. And that felt good. I feel the winter's press upon me and at this point in the season I might as well utilize the long dark hours rather than fight them.

So be it. To the print.

To the sewing machine, once and for all.