A week ago, I took it down to our beach to photograph. The ice had just come in over night, and there was a light snow. The wind was fairly strong and damp.
I laid it out. The reverse side up.
To make a large hand stitched piece like this requires commitment and endurance. The Finnish word SISU comes to mind.
The repeated gestures I make while stitching put me into that beautiful, huge, contemplative space inside me. I think about mortality, I think about legacy, I think about love. I can't believe that love ends.
Made from three wool blankets stitched together to make a long horizontal about 13 feet wide, this object is heavy and awkward to handle and the wind that day was cold.
I left it on the beach for a while. It became a landscape. .An interior landscape.
OMG, our lives are so brief and fragile and gorgeous.
These photos feel as if they are from a hundred years ago, not just a week.
My brother's son, Paul, wrote the following text for twitter and facebook:
Last Thursday my sister Sarah @cervelle passed away at the age of 38, having lived with cancer her entire life. Her example of how to be a sibling, scientist and friend continues to inspire me. The family is incredibly grateful for the outpouring of love and support from Sarah's friends around the world. Sarah embodied SISU.
Here is what Cathy, her mother wrote for the Ottawa Citizen. Sarah's obituary
And I've edited this post to add the following news from the scientific community: