I've been very focused on plant fibers.

They are the rebar of the plant itself, like the rebar sticking out underneath the highway in Denver when we drove through a few years ago.

This is where my inner poet gets loud.

There's a textile called llanchama that comes from the ficus tree.

Where it maps on the plant, the fiber category is "inner bark."

It has to be beaten and dried before it's useful.

Artisans know about its careful removal, then paint on it, wrap babies in it, or make clothes with it. It reminds me of the inside of the basket, on the outside.