The soul starts to talk to itself in the deep sleep of summer. Under the light-flocked, mismatched spruce boughs, It begins to know each other. The lonely half looks up at the sky, The other stares at the dirt. Who knows what they have to say, their voices like just-strung electric wire, Constant, unhearable, but live to a single touch.
Charles Wright, from “Buffalo Yoga,” Buffalo Yoga: Poems (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2004)
on thursdays, we do themes ;) and this theme thursday will focus on three radical canvas bag finds, starting with this ‘earth’-hued hand-dyed bag from longtime EFOTD fave scoutandcatalogue. i love the multicolored ‘pastel earth-tone rainbow’ look of this organic pattern, inspired by oaxacan textiles.