In the current absence of suitable weaving conditions I am left with memories and objects, none of which can fill the emptiness left inside me upon leaving Kyoto, Japan. The truth is, I started missing Japan when I was still there, a feeling that is very strange, like a hangover before you even started to drink or the need for a drug that is still running through your veins.
I miss Japan.
My space is being reorganized, my house slowly cleaned, cleared and rearranged and so is my head. I´ll be weaving soon, I am sure. What I am not so sure of is when I´ll begin to weave Kasuri again. But I am armed, with a Goko Swift, a Kiwaku winder, kiwakus and drawings I made of several tools to get me started. In my spare time I´ll drink green tea and admire indigo dyed tenuguis, the one of the left is an Arimatsu Shibori by Takeda Kahei, the one on the right is Shindigo by Hiroyuki Shindo from Miyama.
Everything else is just wonderful even if a little blurred.
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