Crone and artist James Knowles

On the shore of a deep lake with rocky shores, including genital boulders covered with multicolored mosses and gnarled northern trees, sits an old hag Life and tat destinies. Look no more as weaves and confusing. Without looking at the beauty of the pattern. No regrets about the ugly lodge filaments.

 Knocks his bone bobbins ... sometimes freeze, as if listening to the boisterous whimsical forest birds, thoughtful, and turns in the pattern lightness of being. Sometimes, shake off clamorous resounding echo lake, vpletet difficulty understanding. Scrolls, throwing thick legs first rime with fallen leaves long-eared, obtained in the pattern pleasant chores, but a house full of guests. Fluffy tail inadvertently chirknet fox, chasing the little mouse, and falls into a pattern, a love story with a sad ending. Distracted on pripozdaloe slip last autumn leaves, backfire fate encounter with a forgotten dear friend. Grumbling old woman, sentences, furtively pulling too tangled knots.

Often, pleased postpone lace, slope, pick a new glomerulus. Often peresyadet will take spin. Spits on his fingers, twisting naughty villi colored yarn. Releases the spindle catches, deftly so melodiously. Sweeps it, bounces like playing. Buzzing in the wind the thread, the tune. When merry, and when sad.

The other hand pulls the old woman villi crawl fingers curl, chuckling. Here and wondered someone's life. Strong thread, even. Neither uzelochki or thinning. And in the pattern lies beautifully, smoothly calibrated. Palm with gnarled knuckles, smoothes old lady lace, smile.
And another time, went wrong. And yes ryaba thin thread, and with the other confused, some nodes so ugly bumps. The old woman is tormented her, pulls. Prisheptyvaet patiently, curls, ties up. You look and corrected pattern. Then suddenly a sunbeam flash, then the rainbow.

 Now a winter freeze very old woman paltsy.Trudno her try sitting in the wind, shivering. Freezes the body, do not listen. So it turns out potholes, yes crazy spirals, mixed with oohs ahami yes.

But spring razomleet in the sun, and admire the drops on the first snowdrop pattern turns and joyful heart fire, and under the summer ripen sweet berries.



Oh, dear old lady, do not rush to weave this thread, grass, green. How is it in the icy winter pattern does not want to find yourself. Know taught us about colors have a contrasting color, extra ... Wait, why hurry. Let's pick up the tone, the color, the quality ... Oh, what are you chuckle, you old Hag. Screw the knots ... Oh, you're bad ... What, then, as peep. Not nodes that? Girlish dreams. Secrets of women. My dreams. Flowers, unearthly beauty ... Thank you, dear. Was relieved. Scourge Scourge ...

@ Fleur Annecy

"...... That will touch your soul and stir the emotions ....."
Artist James Knowles