The updates are slowing down. Are you asking yourself why? Are you kept awake at night, heart pounding and brow sweating? " If I fall asleep, I may not know if a new post is up on Weave Nation". There is nothing to be embarrassed about, as I toss and turn in the early morning hours, wondering maybe I will be missing a marathon of old episodes of 'Antiques Roadshow' on PBS. We all have fears.
I want to post; I dream of finding weaves caught in rusting fences or encrusted with residue from life on the streets. I cannot even remember the last time I dreamed, but now I find myself imagining soiled strands almost every day. The sea has called me forth from my urban barracks; the wild waters croon like the Sirens who were just too sexy for Odysseus' men to resist. That's how I feel about the ocean- though I suppose my adoration of Poseidon's domain is likable to this woman's love of rollercoasters.
But now this post has become vaguely uncomfortable, and oddly Homeric in nature. Moving right along, I feel comfortable telling my readership that I have moved to a tiny island for a handful of months to fulfill the fanciful and painfully absurd demands of people wealthy enough to spend hundreds of dollars to escape to an island. Needless to say, there is not much weave to be had on what adds up to little more than a somewhat large rock face.
How to solve this problem. Create an email address! If you find weave and feel inclined to take picture, you can email it to tumblingweavenation@gmail.com
Send the picture, the city or town in which it was found, and the cross streets or neighborhood.
Let's continue making this into a community project!
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