If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you know that I am fascinated by sacred geometry in nature.  In general, it is the thought that God designed nature in such a way that it follows geometric/mathematical principles.  My garden is a great source of inspiration on this level.  And there is no better example than the incredible sunflowers in bloom.

Can you see the amazing spirals in the middle of the flowers?  They are perfectly formed!  And the center blooms from outside to inside the circle as the bees plant themselves for a drunken feast.

As a weaver, I know many principles of sacred geometry and the fibonacci series are used in designing textiles and wall pieces.  Jennifer Moore is a good example of someone interested in the color, texture and form of nature. 

I just know that I’ve been much more observant of nature’s design since I’ve started weaving and my garden provides much inspiration.

Whenever I’m lucky enough to spend some time outside, without having to rush somewhere, I try to focus my mind on the natural world around me.  After I learned to spin and weave, I began to notice how the colors of nature, even in winter, would be perfect color design combinations in fiber projects. For example, look at the photo my son took while hiking in one of the Cleveland Metroparks.

  First of all, I’m amazed that these small plants can remain green in the middle of winter in Northeast Ohio.  But on further inspection, I’m struck by the colors that work so beautifully together.  There’s green, a reddish brown, dark brown and light tan all of which would look terrific together woven in wool; maybe for a wool coat.

Driving back and forth to his college in Northwest Ohio, I was constantly amazed at the colors of the plants just off the roadside or the stumps of crops in the farmers field.  Winter still delights with color even if it’s subdued.

And then there are the design possibilities.  This abstract makes me think of Native American designs.

I’m not a tapestry weaver, but I think that would be the appropriate technique in this case.

As I rush from one appointment to another, day to day, I am thankful that the time I spend spinning and weaving slows me down long enough to notice the quieter details of life.  They are right outside my window, somewhere in my hometown, or along the roadsides I travel.  What a beautiful, colorful gift.