Meanwhile, I have been thinking about developing T S Eliot’s ‘forgetful snow’. If that forgetful snow melted, maybe its waters would run into Lethe. Lethe is many things to many writers from the Classical World: to the Greek poet Hesiod, it was the personification of forgetfulness. In later Greek literature, it was a place of oblivion in the Underworld. In Plato’s ‘Republic’ it was a vast plain which carried the ‘river of unmindfulness’. But the one I like best is from Virgil’s ‘Aeneid’ – the waters of the River Lethe were drunk by souls about to be reincarnated so that they forgot their previous existence. We all have memories we would prefer to forget.
You're welcome to pick your way through threads and stitches, but I'd be really grateful if you could be kind enough to refrain from pinning.