As I said we walked past this tree and I then had second thoughts and we re-traced our steps and took this photograph. I was initially attracted to the organic, purposeful rambles of the larvae. I think these patterns are marvellous. However, on closer observation the central area from which the larvae tracks emanate is discernible. It is this area which has captured my imaginings.
A mother beetle lays her eggs in a spot under the bark. The eggs hatch into larvae and eat their way onwards, through, and outwards, drawing nourishment from the tree, eventually pupating and flying off to lay their eggs in another tree. Cycles. Many metaphors can be extrapolated from this process. I have thought about it in several ways, for example, motherhood, friendships, words, cloth making. I have wondered if underlying all these aspects of life there is a word that best fits the still centre deep inside, for a woman, anyway. If there is, perhaps that word is 'fertility'.
Fertility is a beautiful word. Over-full with bounty, promise, hope, progeny. Often I have visualised the still centre inside myself as calm, tranquil, strong. Imagined it as a vast lake on a day when the wind is not low enough to jiggle the surface - still, deep, without a ripple. Seamless. But I wonder if my still centre is not better described as a burgeoning place where an infinity of action, propogation, cycles and strength exalt in life together. Maybe my still centre is more a seed centre - fertile, vibrating, generative.
At close of needle yesterday I was about halfway through joining the backing cloth to the main cloth. I am using about one centimetre invisible basting. I feel I need to do this for the layers to adhere well and so I can see more clearly what to do next regarding final embellishment. Some time was taken up with some adjustments I realised I wanted to make to the main storycloth before adding the backing.
I anticipate that the whole storycloth of 'How Raven Wrecked A Wedding' will be posted next week.
Happy weekend stitching, Gilly