Fragments shored against my ruins

weaving

Last week*, thumbing through a book I haven’t yet started to read (Imagining the Pagan Past by Marion Gibson), I was reminded of this line of poetry by T.S. Eliot

These fragments I have shored against my ruins

The Wasteland, T.S. Eliot

At the end of a difficult poem in all senses of the word, written at a time of desolation and uncertainty between the First World War and the Second, these words have a peculiar relevance for me just now. Fragments of text, fragments of cloth, what do they hold, and hold up?

While searching for the poem online I came across The Fashion Magpie and her inspiring post about this line.

*In between, I decided to move this research blog to its own space, after realising that I felt hesitant to inundate my subscribers with all the random snippets of things I want to keep track of here. I’ll still be posting about my art textiles at lovefibre.com but if you want to follow my musings here as well, please do.

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