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thoughts on a two apron morning

7/21/2020

 
Picture
How else but with two aprons,
 to pick ​rapidly ripening raspberries
Picture
and carry a garden watering timer
​(aka phone)
Picture
when neither your linen shirt
nor the  hand-me-over-unfinished-skirt
you're wearing underneath
​has a pocket?
Picture
Picture
Not that I couldn't remedy that.
A nice patch pocket on the skirt
would be the work of a moment.
​
And the shirt
is a continual work in progress--
the fact that it already has
a teensy tapestry pocket on one side
no reason to neglect the other.

It's just that I wear the shirt so often--
 like every day I'm not wearing
  the linsey-woolsey one--
that I just haven't gotten around to it.

Picture
Yes -- it's hard to tell from the drawing
that I'm wearing the linsey-woolsey shirt.
But it is  only short-sleeved shirt I have,
so not a tricky deduction.
Besides, it was just a few days ago.

Also, though I occasionally
bend the absolute truth in my comics
(for narrative clarity only),
I generally aim for sartorial veracity--
if only because I love my clothes
and am oddly attached
to the idea that  future me
might like to enjoy seeing them too
(while remembering what. weenie I am about shopping).

It also helps with the laundry.
("I seem to have worn Sarah-Dippity Skirts
in almost every drawing for this entire diary--
definitely time for a bath!")
Picture
But I digress.
Paper pockets
were the topic of the moment.
And they might actually be
a compelling experiment. 
Though the coffee filter yarn
is itself pretty fragile,
especially as singles
(I can't imagine using it for warp for instance),
it seems to stand up remarkably well
 tightly packed in a weft faced plain weave--
at least to the wear and tear 
of life as a diary cover--
growing soft, pliable,
and almost leather-like
​(if a little grubby),
with daily use.
Picture
And true shifu,
(woven from hand spun washi)
has been used for clothing for centuries,
so the idea is not totally outrageous --
except of course, that washi
(and the resulting kami-ito)
is often specifically made
for strength and longevity
while coffee filters are (usually)
single use items.
Though expected to withstand
 boiling water and soggy grounds, 
they are definitely not​
as intrinsically strong as washi.
But who knows?
In case you haven't noticed,
my life is a constant work in progress --
my chief delights arising from
​experiments with the materials at hand,
no matter the source.

And as we all learn daily,
you never know 
what is going to happen.
Picture
Indeed, I'm super excited
about watching the evolution 
of this diary I just made.
Not only do I get to play
with the wedge weave tapestry
I wove last May.
(2-ply vs the singles of the last one)--
Picture
​but I also got (and get) 
to see how the dog bane binding cordage
(made in the fall of 2018),
behaves with constant handling.
It's pretty rough right now,
but super strong
even if I did have to punch
​extra large holes in my signatures. 

Picture
Now what was this post supposed to be about?
No idea. 
Undoubtedly something
satisfying and insightful
that would rock all our worlds--
though nothing could equal
the roller coaster ride
of real life just now--
my mind growing, I hope,
as strong and flexible
and welcoming of change and possibility
 as dog bane cordage.
So a bit of paper-induced absurdity
never hurts alongside, say, things like
the recent groundbreaking
 Supreme Court Decision
that almost half of Oklahoma
falls within a Native American reservation
!

So I'll just end with this photo--
because it makes me happy,
and is a good reminder
to enjoy the hidden richness
in even the simplest
of moments.
Picture
​ps. Tiny chair carved by Linda Ligon's grandfather in about 1915 --
and though this chair didn't start
Thrums Books , Long Thread Media,
and the once-upon-a-lifechanging  Interweave Press,
Linda did, and all three make (and have made)
the world a better place for textiles
and their makers.


pps. Squash plant--a volunteer,
​grown by itself from a bit of compost,

whose contributions to my world
are blossoming even as I type.

ppps.  Because it has to be said:
​Fuck Trump

a month in textiles and comics

7/7/2020

 
Picture
Oh goody--
back to the blog
after a whirligig of a month.
Picture
Except -- 
this business of typing words--
​ I think I must be rusty.
Picture
​Or perhaps there are just so many
 thrilling and important and true words
written  by people far more eloquent than I--
shining light on our world
​with magnificent clarity--
Picture
that for today,
I'll let the cloth
and
 the comics
(and a few links)
say what I have to say.
Picture
Plantation Slave Weavers Remember by Mary Madison
Picture
Picture
(Listening to Rhiannon Giddens with Francesco Turrisi 
and here with Yo Yo Ma)
Picture
Picture
 Luminist and Storymaker  from my guide, Backstrap Dialogues
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
(Ki/Kin Pronouns from Robin Wall Kimmerer )

Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
And oh yes,
a chemo holiday
​ is an amazing thing.
Picture

not boring yet!

12/17/2019

 
Picture
It's astonishing, really,
how much I continue
to love making
these little books--
Picture
​at least once I begin.
Picture
Before I start
there is always
​ the moment
when it feels like a chore.

​"Almost out of pages, Sarah!
Stop spinning
and make a new book.
NOW!"
(so bossy)
Picture
Of course I forget all that
once I actually start tearing and folding paper.
And once I've made or found the cover
I'm immersed until done.

The cover thing has been growing on me.
My first coptic bound diaries
didn't even have them,
the top and bottom signatures
having to do the job.
Then, to save that lovely paper,
I covered the books in scrap cardboard
gleaned from the backs of pads.

It is only in making the last three
that I've been brave enough
to try a thing
I'd been consciously avoiding--
stitching tapestries onto books
not as decorative objects,
but as paper protection.
Picture
My fear
was that tapestry covers

would make the books feel precious--
would strip both the pages
and the act of drawing in them

of the relaxed status
I count on.
 Transforming them
into untouchable artworks

about which I might be
vaguely reverential--
and thus not use--
would do me no good at all.
Picture
At the same time
I was also concerned
that it would be painful
 to watch my precious
 tiny tapestries
grow grubby 
​with dailyness.
Are they not works
​to go on walls?
"Be careful, be careful, be careful."
Who needs that?
Picture
So far, neither concern
has been warranted. 
​(for which I'm hugely thankful),
though I'm not sure  why.
Picture
It could be
that drawing myself
as a cartoon character
every day--
taking a step back,
 seeing this person called Sarah,
 noticing how she behaves
 what she thinks,
​what she has been making

(and of course gently mocking as necessary),
is as helpful and addictive 
as running.
Picture
And since both practices 
are now well established
 I am no longer intimidated
or embarrassed,
or stopped
(injury or  unavoidable circumstances notwithstanding),
by much of anything.
Picture
It could also be
that using a thing I've made--
be it sauerkraut, sweaters,
shoes or a skirt--
transforms it back
from precious object-hood
Picture
into a treat,
so that lacing up my shoes
(oh that moment
when the grubby, familiar cloth
snugs up around my ankle),
or opening up the diary
and watching the marks appear
(so that's what today feels like),
becomes an pleasure
worthy of anticipation--
a daily gift
that cannot be matched
by anything purchased.
Picture
Or perhaps it is merely
the fathomless joy
of surprise:
--how today's run
is different from yesterdays,

--how the thing I draw
is never the thing
​I think I'm going to draw,
--how the same route
and the same apparent image
(me blogging, or weaving, or spinning),
rendered over and over and over
still feels like a miracle,
Picture
or indeed,
--how the word

"and,"
upside down and verso,
looks like the word 
"pug"
in mirror writing.
Picture
ps. those running shoes are now well into their second winter (I have a low pair for warm weather). I waxed them for semi-waterproofedness which is one of the reasons they are so grubby -- the dirt sticks to wax really well.
For more on these running shoes (and others),
Click here

library of days

10/8/2019

 
Picture
Yesterday, I made a new comic diary --
Picture
The front cover 
is a four selvedge tapestry
(woven hand spun coffee filters),
and the back,
a scrap of stiff cardboard
(it is nice to have something to lean on).
Picture
The paper inside
is Rives Lightweight printing paper.
It's got an odd texture for drawing
and is hard to erase thoroughly,
but I love that it is both thin
(I can get lots of pages in one book)
and highly absorbent
(I can slop watercolors and black ink
on both sides of every page
without any show through). 
Picture
This time, as the drawing says,
I decided to use a four needle
Coptic binding --
well actually it is a two needle technique
(one needle on each end
of each piece of waxed linen thread),
and I did it twice.
​Here is a link to the instructions
(thanks for the link Velma!),
which are wonderfully clear and easy to follow.
Picture
It occurs to me now
(just a little belatedly)
that if I'd followed the binding directions as written,
I could have had a four color binding
instead of "just" two.
​Phooey.

Picture
Not that I'm all that wedded
to binding perfection
(as you can see from the pics),
but it is fun to mess around.
Maybe next time.
Picture
I do try to draw in these diaries every day,
and with the decrease in size
of these last two books
(from 5" x 4 1/4" to 3" x 2 3/4"),
it's amazingly easy to fill four to six pages 
without even really noticing
(rather than than one or two as before),
so if I keep this up
"next time" could come fairly soon--
even with the extra signatures
I added onto this new version.
Picture
For comparison,
the big diary on the bottom 
lasted for almost four months,
while the one in the middle
won't even make a month and a half.
Picture
It could be that my life
has suddenly gotten MUCH more exciting.
Picture
It could also be
that the smaller pages
have influenced my style.
Picture
Or maybe its the influence
of the tiny houses--
​though I'm not quite sure how.
Picture
What I am sure of
is that the portability of the smaller format--
now enhanced by the extreme portability
of this teensy pocket palette
filled with handmade watercolors
created by K. Jodi Gear--
makes it extra easy
to have my materials with me
no matter where I am,
Picture
or what I am doing.

Fancy that -- it was all about yarn!

9/3/2019

 
Picture
​Before it began,
I dreamed I would be able
to spend the month of August
​reading novels,

relishing the dailyness of home,
Picture
and also giving time
to the the myriad tempting ideas

that had been tickling my brain.
Luckily, many of those ideas
​had to do with spinning,
(which allows me to read at the same time),
except when I'm spinning flax,
(which means putting down my book),
or learning new tunes,
(which--usually--means 
putting down the spindle),
or sitting quietly in the shade
listening to the birds
with a cup of tea
(which means neither book nor spindle
​but maybe some knitting).
I had hoped to do some sewing
but then I'd have to put down EVERYTHING else!
Picture
Looking back at my daily drawings
I can see that holding my shoes 
while running barefoot,
is probably the only way
I managed to avoid the temptation 
of attempting to spin and run
at the same time.
Picture
And that it was likewise important
that the juice of the yellow plums
from our tree in the hell strip
is so sweet and sticky
that yarn, concertina,
and the current novel
could not be in the kitchen
while said fruit was prepared
for winter consumption.
Picture
Secateurs, too, 
are not yarn friendly--
though the now dry weld
will someday transform
unknown skeins
into spectacular yellows
(or greens with the help of indigo and/or iron).
Picture
On the other hand,
if she's sufficiently half-assed
while cleaning the house for visitors,
Picture
a gal can sometimes
carve out a moment 
or two
of elemental pleasure. 

​Dust? Whatever.
Water, coffee, salad, spindle and a book
at the same time?
Yes, indeed.
Picture
It will surprise none of you--
certainly not long time readers of this blog--
or anyone who has read
the post before this one--
or has happened to click 
on the word Handspinning
in the sidebar to the right--
Picture
that given a chance to make yarn
(as slowly as I possibly can),
​​or to make something with that yarn,
Picture
I'll take it.
​
Though sometimes
the depth of my entrancement
still surprises me.
Picture
So yes --
though I did not get around
to making myself
a new pair of pants*
from those finally-too-worn-to-mend
sides-to-middled linen sheets, 
or learn all the tunes I dreamed of,
it  has been an exquisite
and deliciously yarn-centric August,
 at home on the Palouse.

I'm so glad
I didn't need
​or want
to be 
anywhere else. 

​
*And anyway,
I have plenty of Sarah-Dippity skirts to wear.
Many of this month's comics
indicate that  I wore the short wool ones
as often as the long one I made just for summer!
Picture
I plan/hope to wax verbose
in future posts
about the specifics 
of my August explorations
(not least, what feels like an improvement
in my flax spinning),
so stay tuned.
Picture
Due to unforeseen vagaries of life, however, 
I may not, for a time
be able to blog quite as consistently
​as I have in the past.
I'll still aim for every Tuesday,

but if  I don't make it
know that I'm probably making yarn,
drawing pictures of whatever is going on,

and will be back to tell you about it.

ps -- Remember, too,
that you can visit the archives
​(links on the right)
if you need more glimpses
​into this yarnish life
because really,
though every inch of yarn feels fresh,
I keep coming back
to the same old elemental bliss.

Springtime Microthrills

5/7/2019

 
Picture
Nothing momentous this week--
Picture
rather, a motley collection of moments
that has somehow seemed worth noticing:
Picture
--Lovely tunes at an annual outdoor Renaissance Fair,
the straw-bale seating much improved
by the purse spindle in my hands
(9 gram Jenkins Kuchulu)
and the new Brandi hat to replace the one
that fell out of my pocket after years of faithful service
keeping my ears warm and the rain off my glasses. 
Picture
--A mis-matched collection
of  backstrap experiments
Picture
that refused to countenance
​my assumptions about

its inherent incompatibility.
Picture
--The Sides-to-Middle sheet,
apparently enjoying its extended life
as much as I have been
Picture
-Two coyotes crossing the path
(not together, but both heading south --following the mice?)
and then a black cat we thought (pretended), was a panther. 

--Also, drawing some instructions
(hopefully something I can share before too long)
Picture
--Beverages with Rochelle,
are always magical
even when the thing I most like
about fancy cocktails
is drawing them.
Picture
--That moment after lunch,
when I can get a little work done
​without moving from the spot in the sun
​outside the woodshed.
Picture
--Oh yes,
and deciding on the 20 gram yellow Hepty,
for the spin-and-knit-as-I-go Summer Sweater.
For some odd reason​
though the spindle is four grams lighter than the wooden one,
the finished chain-plied yarn is a hair thicker
(2700 yards/lb vs 2900yards/lb)
and thus slightly easier to knit.
Also, the spindle shaft is longer on the yellow one,
so it holds more.
Picture
--More laundry today
but I haven't drawn it yet
(and anyway you're probably less excited than I am
about sketches of our undies
hanging in the sun),
so I'll leave you here--
messing around,
barefoot in the mud.

What does a gal actually need?

4/22/2019

 
Picture
You never know what is going to happen
 on a trip to our cabin. 
Sometimes the Glacier Lilies are blooming,
and all is peace and birdsong and rattlesnakes.
Picture
Sometimes, like last week,
I find that a chunk of the roadbed 
has been almost completely washed away by recent rains.
Picture
Tea, tunes and spindles always help
with the inevitable transitional melancholy
Picture
​Also nettles, knitting, and a sketchbook.
Picture
I usually bring far too many projects
as I never know 

what these steep, prickly hills
and my solitary self 
will offer, suggest or demand, 

Picture
And a big pile of possibility
always seems a good idea when I'm at home
where distractions are everywhere.
Picture
Those of you who got last week's newsletter
might remember that I do try to limit myself,
for experience has taught me
that too many choices 
actually makes makes it harder
to settle in.
Picture
But even though I removed
several things from the pile
I still arrived 
with more than I could handle
and ended up storing a couple of things in the car
so I wouldn't  see them.
Picture
Because it turned out
that 
what I really needed
was to wander around in my muck boots
​between rain storms
Picture
and devote hours of each day
to spinning  
the last of the yarn
​for this project. ​​
How could I possibly forget
Picture
how easily I am amused?
Picture

The Blank Pages of 2019

1/1/2019

 
Picture
Tiny Tapestry Books.
Picture
Who knew?
Picture
Not me.
Picture
But perhaps the tapestries did.
Picture
Woven side by side last July
Picture
they refused to be parted.
Picture
Four Selvedge Tapestries,
(spindle spun linen, silk, cotton and wool).
Picture
Scraps of  Washi
​and Reeves Lightweight printing paper.
Picture
 Coptic Binding,
Spindle spun linen thread
(coated with beeswax from my Aunt's old hive).

​Business as usual, I suppose--

the materials dictating what I do--
my job merely to listen--
then dive in--
even if I have no idea what or why. 
Picture
Sometimes it is a little unsettling.
​

But ultimately,
I cannot resist.
Picture
May your book of 2019,
be filled 
with  surprise,
​and kindness,
and  joy in the unexpected. 

Long Short Days

12/18/2018

 
Picture
In early December,
the  sun vanishes over the rim of the canyon
at what seems an unconscionably early hour.
Picture
The hills are very steep
(we have had to dig flat spots to stand or walk),
which means  it also takes quite a while
for the sun make its way back
over the opposite hills
 in the morning.

​But getting up before the sun isn't too hard 
in these modern times,

thanks to a couple of old solar panels
(one light at time to preserve the batteries,
and a very warm old parka.


And since there is no internet, phone, radio or cell service
 the days,
if  short on natural light,
​are long on time.
Picture
And that is why I come.
Unscheduled and uninterrupted hours
are the reason​

that I fill a cooler with food,
pack a thousand projects
(few of which I work on),

gather a stack of books
(most of which I don't read), 

​and head off by myself.
Picture
These solo weeks
are always remarkable in some way --
if rarely easy.
Endless uphill and downhills can be hard on the legs.
And  I can almost guarantee 
that on the first day
I will be awash in what I've taken to calling
"transitional melancholy,"
a thing I cannot like but am learning to embrace
(or at least accept),
as an elemental if uncomfortable part
of shifting into a different gear.
"This was SUCH a bad idea,"
I mutter as I unpack the absurd pile of projects.

But the next morning (at least so far)
I can hardly wait to get up
light the fire,
and get started.
Picture
Sometimes, all I want to do is knit.
On other trips I've been glued to my loom,
or gathered lichen for wood cookstove dye experiments,
or carved magic wands from sticks.
There was one memorable one
when I was drawing a naked self portrait
(I was weaving a lot of nudes then, and not so prone to getting cold),
when an old friend knocked in the door
walked in and introduced me to his his brother, who I'd never met.
They had just walked across the canyon
​and were mostly interested in scrounging some lunch.
Picture
On my visit a couple of weeks ago,
​I became obsessed with:
trying to play my old recorder,
 drawing hourly (ish) comics.
and gathering  stuff 
(dead plants, coffee filters, grocery receipt),
to twist into cordage.
​
Oh yeah -- and playing the Cello suites by headlamp.
(Actually only the Allemande from the G major suite
which I play in D major on a baritone concertina,
​which I'm sure is exactly what Bach had in mind....).
Picture
One of the things I most love
about these solo visits to the canyon,
is getting to practice being how I am
when no one else is around.
With minimal outside input,
and 
no emotional labor,
(other than dealing with myself that is),
I can immerse myself utterly
in whatever takes my fancy--
really notice how it feels,
and remember that once upon a time
I was good at solitude.
Picture
It's awfully easy to get out of the habit of solitude -
way easier than to get back into it, at least for me.
And these days, even when seemingly alone,
our devices are usually there
to connect and distract.
And that's a wonderful thing.

Until, sometimes, it is just too much,
especially around this time of year
when everyone seems to be trying to sell something,
or ramp us up about how perfect things should be.
​
So it's nice to step away,
to gather weeds
and tunes--
to gather myself together. 
Picture
And then to write about it,
​ to you! 

Gentle Learning

12/4/2018

 
Picture
It's time for a new comic diary.
Picture
Number 19 is almost full --
only a few blank pages at the back,
and they will probably be all mucked up
​with ink, paint, angst and ideas,
some time next week.
Picture
These moments of  transition
between the one I'm  about to start
about the one I'm about to finish
make me both proud and wistful:
proud that, despite myriad days in which there is nothing to say,
something usually, amazingly, still shows up;
 wistful in that once a book is put 'on the shelf
I rather miss the comics I've done.
(plus it's harder to flip back to check when I last washed the sheets).
Picture
diary #19 -- Note inserted signature from the mini sketchbook I brought on my backpack trip in early October, and stitched in afterward -- another benefit of a coptic binding.
​Not that every comic is precious,
​or even particularly good.
​They are just there.
And what is precious, at least to me,
is the simple usefulness
of seeing my thoughts
reflected back
​ in the moment
Golly, is that really how I feel?
I had no idea. 

and
Gee -- I had such a hard time learning that tune --
and now, finally, here it is under my fingers!
Or maybe not. 
Picture
But I'm not talking about tunes --
At least not today.
Or comics, really.
Bookbinding is the topic at hand.
Picture
At least I think it is--
though I'm not a particularly good book binder.
Adequate at best.
But truth to tell, 
my limited skills suit me down to the ground. 
The last thing I want
is for these diaries to feel precious
​ before I use them.
If they got too fancy, I might be intimidated. 
Accidentally tear a piece of paper the wrong direction?
Put it in somewhere.
Head off backpacking
with a single-signature sketchbook?
Stitch it in when I get home. 
Picture
I started this habit
in a Moleskine I got an an airport 
on the way to a teaching gig 
about which I had a lot of feelings,
(travel is not my thing).
For a long time, the practice
felt so fragile that I was loathe to do anything
(like use nicer paper)
that might cause me to pause,
so I stuck with the Moleskins till I had ten filled up. 

Draw something, anything,
was my  motto.
​So what if you only have three minutes.
Picture
First Drawing in First comic Diary -- 18 November, 2012
These first drawings were in pencil, 
and for a long time I insisted that the pages
 have something else already on them --
lines, or dots or squares --
as though the drawings were mere accidents.
If I spent too much time on them
I feared I'd develop expectations,
freak out
and stop. 
Picture
But somehow I didn't.
And the practice evolved
until suddenly,
between one day 
and the next,
I added color.
This might have been because there were no lines on the pages,
or because my friend Jodi had just sent me
the worlds' most adorable handmade watercolor paint set.
​Or both.
Whatever the reason, I didn't dare to question it,
But within a few months, 
INK!
ZOUNDS! How brave.

But really, how long does it take
​to trust a new habit?
Picture
Jessica Abel recently wrote a wonderful blog post
about the power of Small Habits .
As a creature of habit myself
it resonated strongly, and made me so grateful
that somehow, over time, 
I've  managed to carve out bits of time
in which to add new things into my life.

Not all at once of course.
Indeed, NEVER all at once.
But slowly, gently,  in teensy bite sized portions.

Spinning Yarn, beginning in 1982 --
at 4 AM mind you, before barn-building began for the day
(or cooking for the hunters, or haying, or whatever).
Tapestry Weaving  in 1989
(an hour a day, max, while my infant slept),
Running in 1995
(again -- early morning ).
Four Selvedge Tapestry -- gosh, can't remember the year
but my kid was definitely in school for part, or most of the day.
Barefoot Running--2010
(my son sent a Youtube link, I was intrigued,
but made sure not a soul could see me take my shoes off that first time)
Comic Diary --November 2012
Color and INK -- October 2016
Color and Ink AND Coptic Sketchbook -- August 2017
(a baby habit still -- but the thicker pages fill up fast so it looks like a lot)

Geez. 36 years and that's all I've learned?
Well no.
We all learn stuff all the time--
sometimes to please other people,
sometimes to survive in the world, 
sometimes to write a blog post when the program has changed,
sometimes  because there will be a test
(after which one can often forget it completely). 

But 36 years of choosing  to learn things
that no one else gives a damn about?
That feels good.
Picture
It is just occurring to me as I write
that the things that have stuck
have involved a 
gentle sort of learning:
inner permission be curious--
to start small--
to keep it private --
to take whatever time it takes--
to figure out which techniques and processes suit me--
to stick with those for a while--
(what it is about that material or technique
that makes it compelling and/or pleasurable--
since they don't always go together)--

to refine skills over time as needed.

Really, if no one else gives a damn,
how you learn
​ is no one's business
but yours. 
Picture
At the end of the Webinar with Rebecca Mezoff, 
we were asked how a gal could make time for tapestry.
I blathered on then about something or other -
but what I meant to say,
was that the only way
to make something happen
(even when it is hard
​ and scary),
is to begin
whatever it is
in whatever way
​you can.
No fanfare needed.
Just curiosity.
​And Kindness. 
Picture
ps .  for more comic diary and sketchbook posts
check out the  sketchbook tab
on the archive list on the right
(or underneath this on a phone).

pps.  also, Anne Lamott,  Bird by Bird. 
<<Previous
    Picture

    ​Sarah C Swett 
    tells stories
    with
    ​ and about

     hand spun yarn. 


    Margin Notes
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    my four selvedge
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    ​ Rebecca Mezoff  
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