sometimes it doesn't have to make sense

The winter sun always casts awesome light. After several days of rain the sunlight adds a little extra joy to the day.

Who can resist the glow of gingko, the spark of maple and the dusky undertones in sycamore leaves?

My focus is omnivorous and indiscriminate today. Light, shadow, line, shapes they are all teasing me into running down alleys with cloth and stitch. Practice. Experimentation. Practice. There are a lot of what-ifs? What if I striate the cloth with lines and add new layers of texture with every thread color change? What happens if I add curves to line when I change colors? What if at each intersection I add a dollop of a thread knot? What if I let the threads just hang there. . .does it add meaning? The trick is to slow down enough to see. Slow down enough to let things happen. Slow down enough to make art without meaning.

It's the sphinx like shadow there on the lower right corner that made me move on with this practice cloth. What is he looking at?