Embroidery cotton, lace and Appleton wool, string cotton, gold and silver thread on gray, 22 mesh canvas, 11 x 14 1/4"
Continental stitch in all four directions, embroidered accents
Approximately 77,000 stitches when finished
June 5, 1996 -- September 28, 2004, adjustments to Hubble Deep Field "star patterns" and this website, text and images, still in progress 09-06-06

* * *


* * *

THE TEN THATS, is a theory meant to account for and simplify an understanding of the hundreds of Ragas in North Indian Classical music, (see Page 273-4 in Ali Akbar Khan's "The Classical Music of North India -- Book One; Vol. 1"). It O is here embedded among patterns of a "crystal universe" and the multiplicity of galaxies seen (by human eyes) for the first time in the Hubble Deep Field -- in visual tans, riffs on, and an oblique reference to, the "music of the spheres". Via this website I am delighted to share the patterns that manifest and disappear as I work, both in the needlepoints and in the text. JH, September 6th, 2006.

* * *

When MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADAR in-progress was put on exhibit at the Seattle Asian Art Museum in June, 1996, I felt like a mother who has lost a child. I had been working with it steadily, day and night, and suddenly it "left home" -- if not as a "finished child," at least one who was "independent" for the next three months. I had to find something to occupy my still-inspired fingers.

* * *

MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADARM, shown with in-progress photographs,
Seattle Asian Art Museum, 1996

* * *

Fortunately I had acquired some 22 mesh canvas that I was much looking forward to trying. For though many exclaim about 18 mesh: "How can you see those tiny holes! -- and without your glasses!" But 18 mesh was still not quite "fine" enough. I knew I could do more intricate designs if only I had a finer mesh. And I wanted to try melody.

So, with the 22 mesh in hand and some brilliantly-hued embroidery cotton that Betty, my father's love, and Helen, my sister, had given me, I began a new piece with a quite different concept. My needlepoints based on North Indian Classical music had been, up to now, designed solely around drum bols and the rhythmical aspect of music. This time I would try capturing, and perhaps analyzing a little, the exquisite, elusive, instantly disappearing notes of melody.

* * *

For those interested in needlepoint technique, let me note that, though I love the colors and brilliance of embroidery cotton, in which the THATS themselves are stitched, they create a surface which is too textureless for my taste. I prefer the "hairy-ness" of Persian wool, as well as the texture created by using continental stitch in all four directions.

However, Persian can't be divided down to a single strand which is strong enough to withstand being pulled again and again through the canvas. Thus, when I began THE TEN THATS, I was forced to visit one of those treasure houses known as Yarn Stores. As always, I came away with enough materials and ideas to last an additional 33 lifetimes. Not the least delicious of these new acquisitions was "lace wool." The particular kind I chose is part Kashmir -- awesomely soft and outrageously strong -- it works well on the 22 mesh canvas.

* * *

Then searching through the knowledge acquired during three years of living almost daily with North Indian Classic music, I remembered V.N. Bhatkhande's classification of the Ragas into a system of scales known as THE TEN THATS (pronounced "tots"). It seemed sufficiently mathematical and "grid-like" to pose a not too difficult challenge to one not yet competent to "envision" an actual composition in the highly complex and intricate tradition of Indian music.

Each THAT represents a parent frame in which only one form of a note is used in each scale. Thus all seven notes in each of the ten chosen scales remain the same in both their ascending and descending forms. The chosen scales were then named after the Ragas which they resemble. (Bhatkhande's classification theory is one among many in Indian music.)

In North Indian Classical music, the notes are called svaras.

Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Dha Ni Sa

Traditionally, the seven svaras are said to derive, as do many elements of Indian music, from sounds in nature: Shadja/Sa is said to imitate the cry of the peacock; Rishaba/Re, the chataka bird crying for its mate; Gandhara/Ga, the bleating of a goat or sheep; Madhyama/Ma, the middle sound, the crane or heron's call; Panchama/Pa, the fifth sound, the kokila (cuckoo) in spring; Dhaivata/Dha, the horse's neigh, or the frog in the rainy season; Nishada/Ni, the trumpeting of the elephant.

Collectively the notes are known as the sargam which is somewhat analogous to the Western solfege: Doh Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti Doh -- but not quite. The Western solfege scale usually refers to the tempered scale (c d e f g a b -- as on the piano) and the Eastern scale usually refers to the "natural" or "harmonic" scale. The notes in the Western scale are evenly spaced, the ones in the Eastern scale follow the natural divisions of vibrational frequencies.

* * *

I began my stitching, of course, with the original sound, the great OM, pasyanti, visible sound -- in the center, in orange.

Graphed pattern for OM

A Concise Dictionary of Indian Philosophy, John Grimes, p.231

Then, choosing the colors of the svaras from a red to gold spectrum, I began to stitch THE TEN THATS behind the OM (each square in the line representing a note in the scale) adding, where necessary, a single line square within the note to indicated if it were komal (flatted) or tivra (sharped).


* * *

In the system of notation for North Indian Classical music used by Ali Akbar Khan, at the Ali Akbar College of Music in San Raphael, California, the notes of the twelve tone scale are written in English as:

S r R g G m M P d D n N

The lower case letters indicate komal or flatted notes, the upper case, shuddh or pure, natural notes. Sa and Pa are never sharped or flatted. Shuddh ma, however, is written with a lower case m. It is the only note ever referred to as sharped. As tivra or "bright" Ma it is written with an upper case M.

In Sanskrit, as you will note, these sharps and flats are indicated with short lines below the note for komal and above the note for tivra.

Sa,  komal re,   Re,   komal ga,   Ga,   ma,     tivra Ma,     Pa,     komal dha,   Dha,    komal ni,   Ni   octave,   Sa.

In the blue on this detail, each of the notes' names are written in Devanagari script, the script most commonly used to write Sanskrit, and the script used in the notation (traditionally rare) of North Indian Classical music.

The patterned blue that the Sanskrit notes are written across represents the 16 beats of the tintal theka, the most common tala in North Indian Classical music.

dha dhin dhin dha dha dhin dhin dha, dha tin tin na, tete dhin dhin dha

This theka pattern will be stitched on all four sides inside the blue grids already stitched. In North Indian Classical music even the theka can be highly elaborated. Thus the lines of blue squares along each side, though always of 16 equal "beats," vary in design.

* * *

To the left side of each of the ten THATS, close to the blue theka, the names of the Ragas THE TEN THATS refer to are written in Sanskrit in the order they appear in Ali Akbar Khan's book, p. 273). Here each name and scale is written in English:

Kalyan S R G M P D N S
Bilawal S R G m P D N S
Khammaj S R G m P D n S
Kafi S R g m P D n S
Asawari S R g m P d n S
Bhairavi S r g m P d n S
Bhairav S r G m P d N S
Todi S r g M P d N S
Purvi S r G M P d N S
Marwa S r G M P D N S

Though THE TEN THATS remain the same, the order in which they are listed can vary from musician to musician, theorist to theorist. Music, the most mathematically precise of the arts, is also the most malleable. Almost any thing one can say about North Indian Classical music is both true and untrue. The only absolute truth is in the playing, the hearing of the music. Like Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle: notation pins the notes down but deprives them of the truth of their sound: the true richness of their sound waves cannot be accurately transcribed, located or defined.

Martin Ingerson, a dear friend and student of the esoteric, helped me work out, mathematically and graphically, the twelve tone scale: its ascending progression, its relative vibrational frequencies, and a visual approximation of the unequal intervals between the notes. (Already, I might note, we were way beyond the precision capacity of the 22 mesh canvas.) Above, the twelve tone scale is stitched diagonally up (left to right) across the bottom of the canvas as (for now) open rectangles, in the colors of the notes.

* * *

I began to ponder what to do for a background in the central part of the design. About six months before I began working on THE TEN THATS, the astronomer Suzanne Hawley, said: "There's a new photograph you should see, Aunt Jan."

"What's that?"

"The Hubble Deep Field. It is almost entirely composed of other galaxies."

"Send me a copy," said I. For I had long thought I would like to do a companion piece to PALIMPSEST, the central design of which is based on the 1984 "South Galactic Pole" photograph by Tony Tyson.

One day in June, 1996 the Hubble Deep Field photograph arrived. Just for fun, I put it on a light table with THE TEN THATS canvas over it. The photograph precisely fit the background space -- if ever there was a sign...!

All that is visible, of the Hubble Deep Field on the canvas at the above stage is pencil marks and highlights of a few galaxies stitched in near the lower left.

* * *

I worked on the TEN THATS assiduously for the three months my show was up at SAAM. When the MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADAR first came down from the museum wall, I thought I could work on both canvases concurrently, but it turned out to be too difficult. I didn't resume steady work on THE TEN THATS again until I flew to France in the summer of 1999 to visit and travel with Eva Lothar.



We motored at exhilarating speeds through a good bit of France. Eva, knowing the landscape and architecture of France like her own garden, is especially knowledeable about the great cathedals and the out-of-the-way churches. Just after leaving Paris we visited Illiers, the village in which Proust located his imaginary world of Combray in A la recherche du temps perdu ("Remembrance of Things Past"). We sat in the exquisite, needlepoint-of-a-church built with high vaulted ribs all painted with small and intricate, almost geometric patterns and dark blue-green walls covered, rather sparsely, with small formal florets. The whole interior gave the feeling of being inside the intricacy of an oriental rug. It was twilight. The bells chimed for matins, we were enchanted.

Between Illiers and Conques, where we stayed for awhile in the monastery connected to Conques' 12th Century Abbey , I mused on the geography of France. Much of it is a high plateau dotted with elaborate churches, each circled by, first, the old and then, further out, the new town. It's medieval heritage clearly evident. Further to the south, the landscape becomes more rugged, mountains and valleys.

Jan on Eva's Conques porch
© 1999 Lothar

Eva had recently bought a house which includes a 15th century wall and, indeed, is the only free standing house in Conques. She is in the process of restoring it.

Conques is a small stone town (with no modern section), renowned for its music festivals, the European centre for art and medieval civilization (centre europeen d'art et de civilisation medievale), its oyster-shaped, stone roof-tiles and is one of the way stations where pilgrims, since medieval times, walking to Santiago de Compostela stop to rest and to visit the shrine of the "Blessed Foy, virgin and martyr".

Eva drove and I stitched -- not in the car, but at every opportunity where we rested in the glorious French countryside. Mostly I worked on the border of the original square, on the drum bols of the blue theka pattern in tintal while sitting in gardens, woods, cemeteries and cathedral closes. I took THE TEN THATS on the trip, rather than the still unfinished MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADAR, because it is small and light enough to carry in one's purse.

* * *

The last stitches I put in that year were in Bilbao, Basque Country, Spain as we visited the most astonishing building of the 20th Century -- certainly the opening salvo in 21st Century architecture, Frank Ghery's Guggenheim Museum Bulbao. I walked round and round it for days, in the foggy mornings and in the warm nights, discovering the fires and fountains, the unbelieveable sensuosity of its curves, the humor as it sits like a ship asail on the Nervion River. Truly a building of grandeur, mythic beauty and humor, one might even say, a mythic figure in itself. My very first glimpse of the museum on TV during its opening ceremonies inspired my poem Bilbao and was partially responsible for our summer trip.

Bilbao © 1999 Lothar

Bilbao © 1999 Lothar

* * *

At home again, I continued sporadic work on MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADAR, but devoted most of my time to my other life of study and poetry. Eventually, on my way to India in 2000 (I didn't get there) I wound up for the beginning of the new century in Chautauqua, New York in a winter where 15 feet of Lake-effect snow fell on the shrouded-in-canvas-covers town that usually gets only 15 inches. I all but completed MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADAR by the end of 2000 in a hundred year old, utterly charming, wavy-floored, over-heated, miniature guesthouse/hotel -- while watching the Election Debacle on TV.


* * *

Then I began again on THE TEN THATS, working on what is at this point the outside borders.

Back in Seattle by February, 2001, my life, soon after that, was taken up by learning to live in paradise. In February, 2002, I moved into a studio on the fifth floor of The Good Shepherd Center, a 96 year old nunnery (built in 1906) with 20 ft. ceilings, 100 ft. rustling poplars outside my East windows, a view of Mount Rainier, and the lyrical downtown lights of Seattle reflected in Lake Union from the South windows.

Though I longed to get back to THE TEN THATS, especially as I began to write about it (notes, planning for this web page), there were also many new and old melodies playing through my life. I continued my studies at the University of Washington -- mostly the music and architecture of Asia.

Music (to say nothing about architecture) and needlepoint share not only a mathematical precision, but an infinitely subtle, almost mystical range of variability and improvisation. Music is, perhaps, the most magical art in the universe, but needlepoint has one advantage -- the stitches stay where they are put -- while music dissolves into silence.

I was still puzzling over what to put in the section above the Ten Thats to balance the 12 tone scale already stitched into the section below the Ten Thats. I had a long conversation with Professor Ter Ellingson, one of the world's finest ethnomusicologists, about the 22 srutis , trying to understand their relationship to the 12 svara , and how exactly they divide into the octave. I hesitated. I have to understand a concept (more than I understood the 22 srutis at that time) in my heart, so to speak, before I can actually begin to work with it.

* * *

I did not begin to work steadily on THE TEN THATS again until the end of March, 2004, at the time of the 911 Hearings.

April 6, 2004

There was one additional reason I did not immediately resumed work on THE TEN THATS. I had become discouraged by my attempt at rendering The Hubble Deep Field. I needed to stitch in those stars/galaxies and had marked them in pencil, but even the 22 mesh was not fine enough to allow me to suggest the subtle shapes of the individual star patterns. I couldn't go on without putting them in, and I was reluctant to put them in because the ones I already had stitched in did not satisfy me. I needed to simplify, stylize, and somehow make the indiviudal galaxies more precise so that the Hubble Deep Field reference would be unmistakeable -- at least to astronmers.

Finally, my decision was to forego more work on the Hubble Deep Field. I would leave the galaxies just as they were and fill in all other designs, patterns, ideas, elements and then make up my mind to either alter/complete them with a top thread overstitch or eliminate the Hubble Deep Field entirely.

* * *

One day, while working on THE TEN THATS, I glanced around my studio, saw the two needlepoints hanging there, MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADAR and PALIMPSEST and was bemused to realize that both of them were, also, largely stitched during times of political turmoil. PALIMPSEST was started during the debate that preceded the first Gulf War and MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADAR was all but completed, after five years of intermittent work, while I listened to the Great Election Debacle of 2000, when the Supreme Court elected our current maniacal-leader to his fate which it appears (he claims to hear directly from God) is to rule the world or destroy it in the attempt.

So, while listening to as much as I could bear of the 911 Hearings (what I came to call The Red Herring Hearings where panelists spent much time arguing the side issue of should be have more or less CIA, FBI, etc., and never even began to question the U.S.A.'s creation of a terrorist world, its demagoguery, its insane commitment to believe in and perpetuate its paranoia in perpetual war), I took up THE TEN THATS anew.

Above the central motif of THE TEN THATS, I completed an outline of the srutis visual progression -- a further microtonal division of the Indian scale, mostly used in reference to gamak, i.e. ornamentation of the melody, grace notes. Thus, suggested in the svara colors, shaded from one to the next, forming the small squares, I've tried to suggest the subtlety of the spacing between the srutis and the delicacy of their use.

April 19, 2004

Next, I decided to fill in the background space on either side of The Ten Thats with a reference to the drone of the tambura's. In a North Indian Classical music concert there are always at least three instruments: 1) a stringed instrument, usually a sarode, sitar, or vina, on which is played the melody and, from time to time, the rhythm of various sections of the raga; 2) a drum, most often the tabla : 3) a drone, usually a tambura, (tampura, tamboura -- there are many spellings) big or little, male or female, its notes are Sa and Pa. The drone is played continuously and a-rhythmically. The patterning of its two notes can be varied infinitely, according to the piece.

However, before I stitched in the Sa's and Pa's, and to suggest a faint echo of the original sound, OM, behind the drone and extending into the srutis, I added OMs in dark blue -- meant to be, in the finished piece, almost invisible. But, I also used a silver thread to make the "unnoticed" sparkle.

Then, with both receding and advancing, light-to-dark and dark-to-light, coffering in shades of blue, enlightenment's color, and working over and under other parts of the design, I filled in the notes of the 12 tone scale.


May 11, 2004

As I worked the Sa's and Pa's, I embedded them in dark blue. In the Churning of the Ocean of Milk, recall that Shiva drank the poison to save the gods and demons while they continued to seek amrita, the elixir of life. The poison turned Shiva's throat dark blue. When THE TEN THATS is finished, I now see, it will appear to b be mostly dark blue, excepting the Ten Thats panel, but, by visually churning its depths, one will cause myriad symbols, meanings, references, harmonic vibrations, amrit, to rise to the the surface -- all related to Nada Brahma, the Sound of God -- the Indian name for Indian music.

(I also tried a background theme, the "double T" motif often used in Oriental rugs, and in my work as early as GREEN PILLOW and the elaborated form which I borrowed from my futon-quilt in Su Dok Sa in Korea for KUNDALINI and PALIMPSEST. Here you can see the top of the "T" peeking over the top of the srutis bar. However, I decided against this as a background as it seemed too large and too elaborate to be used to back the "music," and picked it out -- one of the very few times I have ever picked out an "idea" in my 30 years of needlepointing.)

May 18, 2004

Using the "horizontal lines of blue and two shades of red from the central background, turned vertically," I divided up the backgrounds behind both the 12 tone scale and the srutis.

My original intent was to fill the spaces between these lines with more Sa's and Pa's, but, having decided against that, these areas are "resting" as I proceeded to complete the tambura's drone behind the Thats. I often let a canvas, or a portion of a canvas, rest. It might be weeks or months, or sometimes years, before it asks to be taken up again. I try to listen carefully to my intuition and never force a design.

May 28, 2004

With a blue thread, I outlined, for the first time, the actual size and shape of the finished piece. The width and height of the piece was established at its inception by a set of stretcher bars I had on hand. These stretcher bars were originally made for CANTALLOC, but they turned out to be slightly too large and, since I am a great believer in found art, found materials, gifts from the gods, "saving string" (having been born in the middle of the depression), I couldn't simply discard them -- so nicely made and already screwed with eyes and strung with wire -- so I invented THE TEN THATS to use them.

I also began outlining the small spaces for the mantra which was to fill in the top and bottom edges, and completed the dark blue background of the drone.

May 31, 2004

By May 31st, I had stitched in many of the the Sanskrit letters for the upper and lower edges of the complete canvas:

This, the first part of Verse 97 of the Guru Gita, is one description of God, which, in grammatical English, reads:

"This, indeed, is Shiva. Indeed, this too is Shiva.
Indeed, this too is Shiva. Indeed, this too is Shiva."

The other and opposite description of God is, of course, "Neti Neti", "Not This, Not This."

I scanned Verse 97 from my (almost in tatters) copy of the GURU GITA and, because it is so charming, I have also scanned, for your delectation, its blue cover, where you see Parvati listening as Shiva explains the Guru Gita's meaning. Nandini is in the background on the left; Shiva's trident and drum are on the right.

This most valuable book, published by the SYDA Foundation in 1981, contains for each verse, the Sanskrit in Devanagari, the transliterated Sanskrit in the English alphabet, then a word by word translation into English, and then a rephrasing of the verse into grammatical English.

The marks in this copy were made by me as I listened again and again to the Guru Gita and began, by catching and marking each syllable, to teach myself Sanskrit -- the first time. There is a syllabary in the back of the book, and a few hints about pronouncing and reading Sanskrit. At that time, I also wrote out by hand the entire Guru Gita in Devanagari script, letter by letter, paying particular attention to the precise and meaningful order in which the strokes are made.

Now, having studied Sanskrit and consequently having learned a little about its grammatical structure and word definitions, I can guess that the reason the SYDA Foundation no longer publishes this version, is because anything so simplified has to be grossly inaccurate. However, as a first step toward studying Sanskrit, it helped me greatly. And, interestingly enough, I was to learn later that this chanting (without understanding), this writing-out (without comprehension) is very much in the tradition of how Sanskrit is actually taught in India. First you learn to pronounce it, letting the melody of the sacred sounds (in Sanskrit, each syllable is a sacred mantra ) and the sheer ecstatic pleasure of vocalizing it seep into your soul. Gradually the meanings emerge, not only from the writing, but from this drawn out experience and by being immersed in the culture. Sanskrit is both experiential and referential. It's a bit like sex -- you can't just study it, you have to experience it.

Sanskirt is also rather like Physics, insofar as each word/sound/syllable in Sanskrit is akin to the formulae in physics, say, E=mc2 , for instance, which contains a whole pulsing cluster of meanings and knowledge. Words, in (especially sacred) Sanskrit, don't have "strict" meanings like most words in English, they live at the center of galaxies, within penumbras of meanings, etymologies, theories, and only with long association, endless hours of chanting, meditating and listening to Dharma talks does the fullness of their reference permeate one's being and begin to emerge as knowledge. A good example is the Shiva Sutras, often only one or two words, but the interpertation of which fills volumes.

* * *

Later, I studied Sanskrit at the University of Washington with Professor Richard Salomon, one of the world's finest linguistic scholars, where we picked apart each sentence, parsed each word -- a very un-Indian-like practice. However, Salomon's knowledge of language, linguistics, history, and (mainly) Buddhism is so vast, that he can tell you the etymology and various meanings of every word, tracing them back to their codification in Panini's Grammar and beyond into the Vedas. His purpose is scholarship, not a probing of the sacred. I made an effort to learn Sanskrit both ways but, having started too late to have enough short-term memory, today I remember only a few words and phrases -- like the descriptions of God; some words associated with Indian music; and a knowledge of who to ask and where to look if I need more accurate knowledge. Satyam satyam varanana satyam: "It is the truth, it is the truth, O Beautiful One, it is the truth."



The "this too is Shiva"-pattern will be repeated at the bottom of the piece. I have used the color of high Sa (lighter red) for the top pattern, and lower Sa (darker red) for the bottom pattern. Note that this kind of constant variation and repetition does two things: It delights the eye by making it dance and, in this case, ever so slightly weights the bottom with the use of the darker color.

(Shiva-purna the cat lies on my desk beside the computer as I write this, and, just now, he has pulled the Om Nama Shiva scarf off my other computer, the Mac. Wrapping himself in it, he moves about as a gold and red animated sun.)

Note that more has been done to fill in the missing patterns in the beats of the theka. This has taken so long because, 1) I leave little bits, as well as crucial areas, of a design or pattern unfinished, so that, when I add a new element, I have leeway to return and make sure there are some seeds, bindu, of color or design suggested in "earlier" parts of the work and, 2) as I approached this 4th (right-hand) side of the theka, I ran out of one of the main blue threads -- never a disaster, always an opportunity to make the most of the resulting"abrash" -- which will be a cause of delight for the discerning eye. 3) it also helps before an abrash, this change in color, to fill in as much as possible its close surroundings so one can gage its precise effect.

June 11, 2004

The srutis have begun to acquire a sky blue that visually relates them to the rectangles of the svaras. Note there is a group of four stitches left in the center of most of the srutis squares -- I still don't know whether to fill this in with the dark blue of the background or a lighter, more "visionary" color. Also note that each of the "whole" srutis are filled entirely with the lightest blue.

This use of the very light blue is a reference to an earlier piece, ASIAN DIARY #1, Kundalini, partly stitched while I was sitting kyol che in Korea, 1987-88, at Su Dok Sa, where the light blue squares within the central motif suggest my perception of the empty blue sky as a metaphor for "enlightenment."

JH as a Zen nun in Korea

June 18, 2004

At the top "This, indeed, is Shiva. Indeed, this too is Shiva" and its background design have been completed and the theka, down the right side, has also been completed. In starting to design the "wings," panels at the sides, I have stitched in spaces ("enlightenment" squares) along the outer edge for "Neti Neti," the other description of God, i.e. "Not this Not this;" and, along the inner edge, spaces for "Nada Brahma," a description of Indian Music which can be translated as: "The Language of God."

The outlines of the enclosures on the right side, where Neti Neti, in blue, with a little silver to accent its essential emptiness, and Nada Brahma (I looked up Nada in the meantime, and it literally means "sound" -- so "Sound of God") are being sketched in.

June 27, 2004

After much more thought, and wondering if it would really work, I decided to use OMs in the backgrounds of the wings in the colors of the svaras : Sa Re Ga ma Pa Da Ni Sa. Shown in the above image is Pa in its gold at top right, and just the lower half of high Sa near the bottom.

There will be one other complication in rendering the OMs (see under July 5, 2004)), but I think I will stitch it before I talk about it. Then, of course, they will all disappear (as in the classic chess hologram, when the last piece is lifted) into the darkness of the background -- but not quite.

July 5, 2004

Now you see, on the right side, the further complication spoken of above. It is the use of both the komal and tivra colors of the svaras to shade, ever so subtley, parts of the OMs. In the "enlightenment" squares, the shuddh note carries the shuddh color, while the parts of the OMs in the interstices carry the shades of the flatted or sharped svaras. (Easier to stitch than to explain.) Ah variation! -- a reason to keep working (living) right up to the end.

July 19, 2004

During the time Mary Welch et al's Closet Installation of twelve 22 foot dresses was up in our Great Hall at The Good Shepherd, I'd go down there in the mornings, especially weekend mornings, and sit in the shafts of sunlight pouring in through the double hung, stained glass windows of the former chapel and stitch stitch stich, while Shiva purna perched on the balustrade outside "our," The Attic Artists, door.

In absolute silence, unearthly quiet, we sat, cat and I, suspended in time. One morning a bird flew in and perched on the shoulder of the twisted-newspaper kimono.

© Mary Welch 2004


"Is it better to be caged and freed, than never to have been caged at all?" Barbara Meneley


know my cat
well enough to know
that he is as opinionated
as a cheetah, a snow leopard, a yeti,
whose white paws tap at the universe,
the objects of perception.

It upsets Shiva-purna
to see those twelve 22 foot dresses
(hanging in our Great Hall the "living room,"
Closet, if you will, in this 100 year old nunnery
that supports Shiva-purna's perch and my eyrie)

made of felted, bright wool, layer upon layer of reds,
yellows, and a shade as dark as a Siamese cat's ears;
made of clear plastic and dog-hair, ballooning like Marie
Antoinette's ball gown; made of a slim column of silver mist,
dissolved by sunlight, buttoned with black pearls; made of dark,
scented, diamond cuts of ecologically-to-be-treasured Scotch-broom;
constructed of stained-glass-mullioned-window trim beneath a dimpled
scarlet silk; made of a torso-ed chandelier, shimmering with
white-thread-weaving crystals;
made of tightly twisted-living-newspaper
stories -- a kimono, thirty feet long, its train splaying out across the ancient, saged boards;
made of
slim rusted-wire, a mannequin-ghost, its drooping,
sleeve-arms snaking
around the polished floor;
made of saris and ties, a peacock-tailed-phoenix; made of
ceramic, a white-bodiced, hearted-paean; made of white-polypropylene crochet
with blue-belting-straps feathered to enclose the blouse; made of pale blue-gray canvas
and white, a medieval nuns gown with pomegranate heart.

atop the balcony wall, gazes and gazes
as if he expected the out-sized birds to move about.
He is stunned by their immobility and silence.
He hops down, hunkers in the well at the top of the stairs,
meows to go home.

So intense is his desire to return
to his furred, brown velvet pillow
that he learns to paw open the dead weight
of the fire door.

Tomorrow, he crouches again in the hall,
guarding the door to the "Closet"
begging to be let in to face his terror.

One morning,
a bird perched on the west shoulder of the kimono.
Shiva-purna strained forward.

Before he can sprout wings,
I open the door, toss him
toward home.

* * *

July 24, 2004

* * *

Following is an e-mail exchange with Linda, who I often bounce things off just to re reassured by another's presence in my esoteric universe.

Long Cu, July 24, 2004

July 24, 2004, detail, beginning of wings background, lower left corneer

To: Linda
Subject: A Thought
Date: Sat, 24 Jul 2004 12:29:50 -0700 (PDT)

Dear Linda:

I have just BEGUN to drive myself crazy -- thinking thinking thinking about the background for the wings/ears of THE TEN THATS. Finally made a decision -- I think:

I'll stitch in Tintal in a two line pattern with one line between, repeating it all the way down. In 22 mesh you can imaginee how tiny these lines will be! -- plus all the complications of the OMs and Sanskrit and squares that are already on top, which these new background stitches will have to go "under" MADNESS! -- trying to count the pattern across all that STUFF! -- will surely ensue. Why do I do it? I don't quite know. To try my own patience? To show that any wild thing I can think of, I can do?

If it works, it should be stunning.

Included is a copper wire "Khali." I found the copper wire while walking over to the U this morning in the 90+ degree heat (already at 10:00 a.m.) on the street. Who could resist picking up a small rat's nest of copper wire? Not I! I had been debating what to put in the khali -- it is the "empty" -- I have to look it up, it's more than a "beat." I'll be right back...

Ah ha! "vibhag" or "ang." It is the "empty vibhag or ang" (i.e. "measure") in Tintal. The first vighag is SAM (pronounced sum, the second is a bhari, the third is the khali, and the fourth is another bhari. Got it? So Tintal is called (means) "three clap!," because the khali vibhag is a "wave of the hand" (as you are keeping time) and only the other three vighags get a clap.

Simple, really!

That's why I could never be a musician! However, in Needlepoint, once I get the little buggers stitched in, they STAY where they belong and I can SEE them, even if I can't UNDERSTAND them! So, copper wire for the khalis. It sounds like some parallel universe, doesn't it. Ah so!

If I survive, I'll be scanning what I did, sometime today. I may even get it posted.

I come alive in the heat. Yesterday it was 98 degrees. That's the temperature I need to live at. So who knows? -- there may be one more move in my life -- out to the desert again. Also, I'm having one cup 'o coffee -- not every day -- it sure helps. I don't know why, but buying a cup at my favorite coffee shop, i.e. Allegro, it doesn't seem to give me the itch. Maybe what I am allergic to is those coffee filters! or TJ's coffee!

Anyway, much love,


* * *

To: Jan
Subject: RE: A Thought
Date: Mon, 26 Jul 2004 19:56:44 -0700

Dearest Jan,

You may have just BEGUN to drive yourself crazy, but after two readings of THE TEN THATS/vighag/ang/22 mesh etc etc etc., I am in a whirl sitting here in the middle of the Sonoma Library. Reminds me of my friend Stephanie who does BOXES -- precise/very orderly/neat as a pin -- and has just got her first order from a SF gallery. Everything is balanced within a millimeter of perfection and, like you, she has a complete explanation for every box.



* * *

To: Linda
Subject: Language
Date: Wed, 28 Jul 2004 12:40:33 -0700 (PDT)

Dear L:

I thought you might enjoy all that LANGUAGE re the "music" in THE TEN THATS. I continue to be eternally charmed by the jargons of the world. And I must not forget to amplify the bit about the gamak, ornaments, tans parsed into the microtonal aspect of the srutis!

I try to contain my delight at the thought that you now have to go out, like I do, each day to do your computing. Actually it's not a bad life!I continue to feel a bit better! Bill's class last night -- delicious! How fortunate I am to have a Guru across the street.



* * *

July 29, 2004

Up the left side and up the right side, plying them over and under the other elements,the initiating blue lines between the tintal theka lines begin -- simple looking but not easy to do.

During the next week or so, while stitching the theka,I listened to the Books-on-Tape version of Bill Clinton's MY LIFE read by Michael Beck. What a joy it was to have that great Arkansan sit with me while I stitched. Beck's voice is so similar to Clinton's that, often, I thought it was our last legitimate President, himself, giving me the rundown on his amazing life as well as an unmatchable course in Civics. MY LIFE should be mandatory reading for all young people as they begin to develop a taste for politics. It certainly clarified for me that, no matter how passionate I am about the dirty tricks and neo-Nazism of Bush the Younger (and the old fashioned Nazism of his Grandpa Prescott), I am not, by birth or temperament, a political animal.

I can write my share of letters and e-mails, attend my share of marches and rallies -- the WTO Protest (take a moment to look at the photos!) here in Seattle (We're coming soon upon its 5th Anniversary). It one of the most significant and joyous occasions I have ever participated in. It was a turning point in my life and initiated a whole new national/world energy for the new century. Nonetheless, I simply could not do what a Clinton did from an early age: talk with and be with all those people, endlessly involved, endlessly empathetic, endlessly loved and loving. I'm a solitary! But what a gift to have him with me, telling me all, as I stitch, stitch, stitch.

* * *

August 8, 2004

By now, the two wings are striped all the way up -- not unlike the modern windows by Pierre Soulages that were installed at Conques Abby after the destruction of the original stain glass windows in WW II. Though I still haven't decided if I like or dislike them the Abby, their setting certainly makes them unforgettable. There are also a fair amount of stripes in Italian Gothic -- a detailing borrowed from Muslim architecture, where the stripes may have been suggested by the rows upon rows upon rows upon rows of worshippers, sometimes circling, sometimes still, at the Kaba in Mecca.

* * *

August 8, 2004 Detail

In this closeup one can see small sections of the background in the wings fully stitched in two shades of blue with, if one looks closely, the copper of the khali visible here and there. The darkness of the background brings up and shows off the Sanskrit ti and Ne of the first and second Neti Neti,, as well as the Bra of Brahma, and the OM in the color of Ga.

Note the distinction between Brahma, the Creator God, and Brahman, the world soul.

If the rigamarole above about vighags and khalis and Brahma, world souls, etc. makes your head spin, keep in mind that the textile arts, indeed, all the grid arts, are the most ancient forms of art and carry within their realization infinite and untold, lost and yet to be discovered meanings, enough to fill the curious mind with endless delights.

* * *

August 13, 2004

The next big step as we proceeded through Bill Clinton's life -- from childhood into politics -- was forcing myself to decide to extend (or not) the same tintal pattern through the two unfinished sections of the central square.


My heart was pounding wildly as I stitched the completion of the background (i.e. the dark blue) into the small section just below the 22 srutis.

Note the luminosity that khali, in the lighter red, creates in this pattern of tintal. I began by putting the dark red stitches into the small horizontals outlined in blue leaving, each time, four spaces for the khali. Then I added the lighter red and filled in the dark blue.

August 23, 2004

This red khali of the tintal pattern has also been started in the lower part of the background down by middle Sa of the 12 tone scale. Both these thekas in the central square are the same pattern as is shown in the left wing, except that in the wings the "tintal" beats are stitched in completely with bright blue, and the khali is suggested with two over stitches of copper. (The copper proved a little recalcitrant to work with and some of the copper stitches have fallen out.)

Usually when I get this far with a piece, it is just stitch stitch stitch, as almost all the creativity has been savored. However, I genuinely did not know how the red stitches in the central tintal would look, nor how it would affect the "surface" elements and patterns, or whether the khali , done in the color of Dha, might be too bright and, therefore, distracting. However, as I hardly dared hope, it did add a luminosity to the design rather than distinguishing itself as a separate pattern.

August 30, 2004

With the filling in of the blue background within the background theka the dark blue cast of the whole piece becomes richer and closer to what it will looks like in reality and will look like when finished. From a distance you see the OM, THE TEN THATS and the major area divisions, but only the ghosts of all the other patterns stitched behind the surface elements.

Gradually, I grew alarmed as I stitched in the theka in the top part of the central square. The bar of srutis was too much. It stood out. I threw in a variation to try to lighten, to minimize the contrast between the unearthly, light blue of the srutis and the getting-to-be too dark blue of the surrounding background. It called too much attention to itself. What was I to do? Unstitch all those microtonal divisions? My aesthetics re the music seemed right, why did it so overwhelm visually?

The only previous time I had hit such a snag in this piece was when I had had to admit my lack of success stitching in The Hubble Deep Field (mentioned above).

I felt the srutis did not, in the most attractive manner, let the background show through in "random" places -- random in relation to the mathematically placed sruti squares themselves. They were too light-bright-blue and the background blues too random. And their randomness didn't strike me as beautiful. But, on the other hand, they aren't random, I thought -- the bits and pieces follow other and deeper patterns. For, as the srutis are intimately connected to the concept of ornamentation, maybe this apparent randomness does say something important about them, i.e., as gamak, tans, meend, alankaras, ornaments, etc., they surrounded other notes with fanciful penumbras.

Should I pick out the srutis "bar" or let it stand and somehow manage to justify it in all its amazing, wild, wonderful, impossible variations. But the piece, as you see here, is very nearly finished. Where was I to put more bright-light-blue to balance the too vivid srutis. Not only were all the stitches in the central square taken, but almost all the stitches in the "wings" were either filled or totally planned.

* * *

This dilemna reminds me of an insight I had during my recent "great vision" where, seeing the "crystal universe" for the first time, I was mightily amused to find that all the molecules had got there before me and, therefore, there was no place for me. I didn't feel this as a rejecttion, but simply as a truth I had always known: i.e., I was an alien. I arrived too late to be incorporated into the universe -- the universe was already filled. However, having to go to the bathroom, as this vision began, I got up -- and found I could walk right through the densely filled crystal universe -- unimpeded! -- laughing all the way. Why it struck me as so hilarious is hard to tell. Perhaps it was that, since everything in the universe had to be in the universe, that included me and it was, therefore, not mine, but the universe's mistake if the molecules hadn't accounted for me. I was neither responsible nor rejected, just an amusing anomaly. (By the time of my second "great vision," I experienced myself as "included among the molecules in the crystal universe." That, too, was amusing.) Therefore, even though I had no stitches (or molecules) left with which to "justify" and "soften" the drama of that light blue against the dark, the "universe" was responsible and would take care of it.

Regarding my needlepoints, I never speak of anything as a mistake, nor, while I am making them, do I talk to anyone about the thoughts, desires, decisions, reasons that go zipping through my mind. But this "too-muchness" of the srutis was more worrisome than usual because, after almost 80,000 stitches, I very much wanted this to be DONE soon and easily, and to look balanced and beautiful -- at least to me!

* * *

On August 22, 2004 THE SCREAM was stolen from the Munch Museum in Oslo, Norway. This version of The Scream (there are many), the museum considered one of its most valuable painting. So far, no further information of its whereabouts is known.

Coincidentally, a few days later, beginning about August 26, the gathering "screams" of half a milion people began to resound in the streets of New York as the Republicans converged to hold their Convention on this ultimately Democaratic city. Before the Convention ended on September 2, 1800 people had been arrested, confined in filthy conditions (many for 48 hours without charge) -- having been detained, as NYC officals admitted upon releasing them, for no reason. Thus causing one of the most shameful blots in the history of America on the First Amendment to our Constitution.

The RNC convention also called forth many witty, wonderful and important actions against the U.S.A's ruling junta. Very few of which were mentioned by the mainstream media, but which I learned about via Amy Goodman's Democracy Now on radio and which were more completely chronicled through During all of the Convention's five days, I stitched on THE TEN THATS. The news blackout about the protesters wasn't quite as complete as some other censorship campaigns which have failed to deal with the rising movements around the world of people who have different visions than those ofthe acronym people (the WTO, IMF, FBI, CIA, NSA, etc. etc. etc.)

As I write this on October 9, 2004, the FBI have just gone around the world snapping up the hard drives of Indymedia servers.

* * *

Yesterday, September 4, I explained the dilemma of the too-bright-blue-shrutis to my friend, Ann. She is always patient, even when I am talking of srutis, vibhags, tans, gamak, of which she knows nothing whatsoever, nor, I am sure, really cares. I even explained to her a possible way out, i.e. I would fill in with light blue, the four corner bracket-like-blanks at the top and bottom of each of the side panels. This would soften the drama of the central line of too-bright srutis.

I knew it would help, but would it help enough?


Ann and me in one of our 10,000 discussions. Photo by Lothar © 2003?

* * *

Later, after working for hours on the bright blue stitches bracketing the side columns, while listening to Bill Clinton's "My Life" -- (a mind boggling story of energy and life-love) counterpointed with my worry about his having heart surgery tomorrow, a quadruple by-pass, which is thought to be fairly safe at 58 but, nonetheless the horror of the thought that he, such a brilliant human being who I have always looked upon as a "son,"might die so young, haunted me) -- I finally came to the realization that I could put little one-stitch-wide, 22 count patterns in the still blank spaces at the outer edges of the wings which, heretofore, I had planned to fill with the plain dark blue.

Thus, even having so few unplanned stitches left, my faith revived that there were still enough options to relieve the drama of those too-bright srutis. For, like the infiniely varied and subtle ornamentation in North Indian Classical music, the grid of needlepoint allows for endless, impromtu modifications right up to where the reverbrations of the last stitch dies away.

So now, I am dying to try this placement of the bright-light-blue, 22 srutis pattern, but daren't yet, for I will only be able to see if it accomplishes what I want it to if the rest of the piece is completed. So, once again, I am in that delicious dilemma (which doing improvisational needlepoint is all about) of not knowing if, with my last few stitches, I will be able to make the whole thing "jell" -- like a raga --into the kind of beauty that makes these pieces acceptable and worth doing.

My heart is beating faster, all a-flutter again.

But I must calm down. I cannot scan the piece again until Tuesday, September 7, Monday being a holiday. Stitch slower, I say to myself, because I want to record this phase before the background of the wings is completely filled in. But I know I don't really need to worry, as there are stitches enough to last me 'til Tuesday even if I were to stitch non-stop between now and then.

So off now, to the Health Sciences lab to do a bit of this and that on the computer, and take a walk in this glorious, maybe already "autumn" sunshine.

September 7, 2004

* * *

The first, and only other time, I had become as discouraged with this piece (as improvisation) was in April, when I owned up to the lack of success I was having with stitching in The Hubble Deep Field. In fact, as you will recall, it is what kept me from beginning on the TEN THATS again even after I had finished MUKHRA/TUKRA/CHAKRADAR. My decision then, in March, was to simply leave the "early Hubble" stitches, forget about the rest of its stitches and proceed. I left out a few stitches (the two top galaxies on the second line on the left side, for instance) if I thought I really wanted those galaxies there. But now, I did not have the priviledge of long delay, nor the option of other, yet to be realized, portions of the piece. It was almost finished! I needed courage, not time.

September 21, 2004

The blue background of the theka in the two wings is completely stitched in as well as the four light blue brackets at the top and bottom of each column.

* * *

September 28, 2004, e-mail to Linda

Dear Linda:

You know I went to sleep some time ago when I had this passionate hatred for the British Empire and what they had done to the world -- going around destroying other people's civilizations. Then, suddenly, I woke up and realized that even more despicable than the British (at least they were always urbane and bent on large architectural projects) is the New American Empire which is destroying civilizations and peoples everywhere, and has been doing it long enough to be a total scourge on the earth -- while I never even noticed.

Another thought: It's so very very very very odd to think of living and doing just for one's self. I find I am more witty and wonderful than I had ever hoped to be when I talk to myself, run around just making trips and treats for myself. Writing an occasional poem for myself, and putting in 80,000 stitches on a little 1 x 1 1/2 ft bit of highly esoteric and complicated stitchery. There it is, last stitch last night on the eve of the full moon.

Not quite, of course, I still have the Hubble Deep Field to deal with. Either pluck it out and leave some black holes, or pluck some of it out and restitch it properly so the star patterns ("not Constellations," -- Suzanne warns me. I asked her -- "because they are galaxies, not stars) can be stylized to be distinct and recognizable. With 1/2 dozen prints beside the needlepoint, on my bathroom wall (Ah! recall Martin Luther on his privy), I am actually beginning to see those patterns! It's not just a field of stars. The black holes idea interests me! Maybe instead of white spots, I will create black holes, since they aren't in our galaxy anyhow. And I even quite like the edges that I was worried about.

The middle square is so distinctly bordered that it makes the "wings" look unfinished on the outer edges -- as if there should be a similar border there. But with the pale pale, light blue, tiny rectangles (22 for the srutis) along the two edges, it sort of looks like they were "unzipped" from each other and flattened out, suggesting that the whole once formed a cylinder. Which of course makes me think of the giant cylinders in the red and blue halls of Nyingma dharma halls.

Just to be really clear: the whole thing now looks like an unzipped cylinder, so it is all the more important that the background in the middle square must fall back into the gigantic expanse of the night sky, the three dimensional nothingness of space -- and that might be better accomplished with black holes than with bright galaxies.

Yesterday, of course, access to my website just wasn't there, but a stress inducing warning was. So finally, after all these years of getting messages I simply don't understand, I went to talk to the CAC boys. Nice boys, and they explained fully what every angel always explains in summary: Probably nothing is wrong, your server is probably working on the site. Just go home and get a good afternoons sleep. Oh! God! I hope it is back up when I get back to work today.

Anyway, to finish the thought above -- i.e. doing for myself -- I always thought, just for me nothing was worth doing. I had to have some applause and recognition, or all that work is down the drain. If no one ever sees, no one ever applauds. what is the point of doing anything? -- just for my own entertainment. No faith at all that if you create something lovely, it in itself, like a flower in a field, is, apparently, worth something. I mean who has not thrilled to a isolated lily of the field, blooming away in an acre of weed. But what if no-one ever -- no human ever walks that way and admires it. It just blooms and dies.

Aren't we the arrogant ones. If we don't see it! the flowers life is worth nothing! I'm trying to bend my mind around that arrogant realization.. Back off, Jan! The flower is the flower is the flower. But even that last sentence isn't possible, unless some other human hadn't made it up, about a rose first, and the world looked and applauded. Ah so. Anyway, I get closer and closer to just doing things for myself. If God wants to save them, its up to him/her. I just spew forth the poetry and the stitches. Enough said. It's obvious I haven't come to the end of this troubling thought. But, egad, I am a lot happier.

And here comes S-p, paws out, head under the lamp. When he settles down to be brushed he always assumes, first the (yoga) Cobra, and then he sinks down into the Sphinx. Right now, he has turned his delicious little chin up and is staring at me with those baleful blue eyes. Now, up comes the adorable belly, the white paws in the air, tempting me. He wants to play and I want to type. He used to be quite courteous about my working, but now, here he is stretched out like a loaf with his feet against the wall, watching my fingers, thinking about ATTACK!

Anyway, I must get to editing the Ten Thats Text so it is ready to go if my website works today. I need to get through a whole draft -- its going to be about 40 pages long -- and then print it out and REALLY START EDITING!

Oh my God! I just went back to correct the spelling in this missive, and discovered that I have been misspelling shrutis -- i.e. I have been calling them sruties-- Oh God Oh God, have to do a universal replacement on my web page. Imagine me misspelling something! (Later on I decided on the "srutis" spelling rather than the "shrutis" spellling. The confusion comes in here becauses "normal" "s" in Sanskrit is pronounced "sh".

September 28, 2004

* * *

Having finished everything but the Hubble Deep Field on September 28, 2004, I immediately missed the siren call of my project insisting that I stitch stitch stitch.

I've allowed myself all these details and digressions, because this needlepoint -- I'm now 70 -- will very likely be my last one. I hope it interests you as much as it interests me to reflect on some of the ten-thousand things that have gone into the creation of this work of grid art.

October 6, 2004

During the first Presidential debate, 10-1-04, where Bush made such a corpse-like, repetitive-mechanical-toy ass of himself, I plucked out the "stars" in the lower part of the central theka from behind and within the 12 tone scale.

How I have missed my endless stitch, stitch stitching!

I keep thinking I may have to do another piece. In the meantime, though, there is much of the Hubble Deep Field to be plucked out and the background re-stitched.

* * *

November 22, 2004

The Hubble Deep Field still needs some more simplifying. And some of the plucked out places need to be refilled. However, this is the last scan before the LAST SCAN. JH 11-22-04

* * *

By January 21st, as I worked steadily on revising this text, we had survived the $40,000,000 Bush inaugration, with Washington D.C.defended by anti-aircraft guns, anti missles, 13,000 police and National Guardsmen, while he mouthed for 17 minutes about bringing peace and freedom to the world. If it weren't so totally unbelieveable, I would be horrified instead of laughing. Life has become a Science Fiction movie, with Attila the idiotic Hun pretending to be our President,

Above, you can see, I have picked out some of the deepfield, and I am probably within a hundred stitches of finishing THE TEN THATS, but still, I can't seem to bring myself to do it -- adjusting the universe in this topsy-turvy-comic-book world that Bush the Shrub has created, seems somewhat irrelevant. But, no doubt, something will happen and I'll do that last bit of stitch stitch stitching. JH 01-21-05

Last night, being weary and sleepless, listening to more comments on our ever-lying president's inaugral speech, I finally did pick out the necessary part of the main feature of the Hubble Deep Field, i.e. the large "slanted" galaxy near the lower left corner -- which, in the needlepoint, had looked, up to now, like a little folded-paper airplane. Now it has its two separate sections (galaxies), and needs just a few stitches to establish the shimmer of the ball-like galaxy at its "tail." JH 01-22-05

* * *


FINAL COMMENT (revised to here 01-24-05)

I've allowed myself all these details and digressions, because this needlepoint -- I'm now 70 -- will very likely be my last one. I hope it interests you as much as it interests me to reflect on some of the ten-thousand things that have gone into the creation of this work of grid art.

Copyright © 2010 through 2015 by Jan Haag

Jan Haag may be reached via e-mail:

The Needlepoints

I The I Ching

II The Unicorn

III Green Pillow

IV Armrests

V Narcissus

VI Chinese Chair Pillow

VII Great Grandmother's Legacy


VIII Octagonal Beanbag

IX Flora and Fauna Beanbag

X Asian Diary #1, Kundalini

XI Asian Diary #2

XII Tibetan Yantra Beanbag

XIII Kalachakra

XIV Eye of Horus Amulet

XV Erika Sachet

XVI Needlepoint-Cattipoint

XVII Palimpsest

XVIII Cantalloc



IXX Tintal Coin Purse

XX Kaida, Tabla Covers

XXI Tukra, Tabla Covers

XXII Mukhra-Tukra-Chakradar

XXIII The Ten Thats

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21st CENTURY ART, C.E.-B.C., A Context