handstories

Full days

    "Ruby" for the gem-like feel to it.

    Someday I'm going to find the perfect clear pink glass bowl that lives in my imagination.  Some days it will be empty except for the rosy light glowing inside of it, other times rose petals might float in it, or a few special marbles will roll at the bottom, and once in a while it will be filled with sea water.  Someday.

    What happens when you have five minutes in the bathroom and a pair of scissors...

    It went much better than the last time.  K didn't have to repair any oddly cut angles, and I can roll over in my sleep without getting tangled again.

    Autumn is going full blast this week- wind, rain and dark dark mornings.  I love it, except for the fact that my studio room is cold.  It has the best light, and the worst temperatures- an added on room that holds summer's heat and winter's chills. 

    I've been wrapping myself up in this length of knitting.  A few of you might remember it... Knitted eight to ten years ago from some of my first handspun, over six feet long, and called "Breathing" because of this moment.

    (I do own a shawl pin thingy, but have no idea where it is.)

    And there's been more moon play.  The story changed over and over as I worked on it.  Actually, I guess that the cloth just grew somehow, because all of the stories are still here.  No name yet... still thinking on what words will hold all of the layers.

Friends & playing

"Cara"

        A few trees have sprung up this week, brought to life with Deb's rainbowed scraps and threads.  I do love the surprise of each of them, the not knowing who they are until they're finished.  Once done, I hold them and see what feeling or word comes to mind.  In Cara's case, it was the connection between the tree and star.  There seems to be a conversation, an understanding, a connection... which led to thoughts of friendship.  "Cara" means friend in many languages- Irish, Spanish, Latin...

"Yawen" and "Linnea"

    "Yawen" is a Chinese name meaning cloud patterns.  Do you see the faint cloud line that I followed in blue stitches?  "Linnea" is where I landed after a search for pink names.  It's Scandinavian for a small pink mountain flower.

    I wonder who will show up here?

    A blue moon playground by Tina.   I wasn't sure about my ability to stick with and pull off a tidy stretch of Jude's stacked stitches, but ended up enjoying the process, and could see that I improved as I went along.  Practice, practice, practice really does work.

    Twinkle is so glad that I'm home, but not happy that I'm spending time at my table, rather than on the couch with her.  She tried to balance and make do on my lap, but not for long.

    There was a beautiful glittering silvery dream last night- a boat ride near waterfalls and a new version of Portugal.

    

    And more waves for Barbara....

Swell

    Cape Cod was lovely.  Hours and hours, and days and days, spent doing very little.

    We stayed in a cabin on a small island, accessible by a one lane road with a small wooden bridge.  Comings and goings had to coordinate with high tide, which would cover the road in a few feet of water.  There was a miscalculation on the first day and we had three unexpected hours on the mainland side.  That didn't happen again!

    So many beautiful beaches.

    Way too many photos of waves were taken, trying to capture the lines, rolls and feel.

    There were a couple of days spent on one beach, whole days of staring at the sea.

    Seals played close to shore (the blurry black spot in the center).

    I feel rested.

    An unexpected lodging option discovered on one of our many beach walks.

    Just before this sunset, this is the spot where I took a dip in the ocean, head under the water and everything.  I can still taste how salty it was.

    (In real life, there was a swimsuit!)

    The bit of stitching that happened on the trip was finished up yesterday.

October days & nights

    It's been a blustery autumn day here, a wish I could take a nap kind of a day.  Instead it was a day of packing and repacking, wondering what might be needed for a week on the other side of the country, tying up some loose ends before leaving tomorrow, and a little bit of stitching of a wild sky on some of Tina's dyed cloth, with a bit of Deb's thread twinkling in the swirls.  

    A quiet anniversary this weekend- a nice Italian dinner, a ferry ride, and an afternoon on an island.  Thirty-eighth.  Quiet is good these days.

    The dream last night, a crazy adventure with a friend, so long it felt like a book- silk shirt mending, magazine proposals, old people swimming near floating dead birds, a poem writing, beetles, June bugs and a single bee, mannequin mimicking, stitching the word "wonder" on waxed canvas... on and on it went.  I woke up exhausted at 4:30 am and have been awake(ish) since.  Perhaps it's my body's way of practicing for tomorrow's 5am departure for the airport?

    Wishing us all sweet dreams and happy trails...

Hills & Haikus

    Some hill playing.  It started yesterday in cloth,

    Continuing this morning in paint...

and on into an assignment from a Carla Sonheim class, inspired by the work of Julie Paschkis.  Combining oil pastels and watercolor, along with words that "rhymed and chimed".  Playing with words mentally and visually was a lot of fun.

    There was a momentary flashback (apologies if I've already shared this story before) of being introduced to Haikus in sixth grade.  At the ripe old age of twelve, I already considered myself a fine enough poet, and was not thrilled with being given new rules to abide by. 

    So I wrote:

Five in the first line.

Seven in the second, please.

Five in the last line.

    Needless to say, Mrs. Young was not thrilled with the result.  Later I noticed that my haiku had not been stapled to the wall along with all of the other poems that contemplated flowers, trees, baseball, etc. in seventeen syllables.  Seeing my paper abandoned on her desk, I grabbed it, and the stapler, and secured it to the wall.  She sighed.  I stomped smugly to my seat.  (I was one of those students.)

    Back to the cloth...

Today is still Thursday

    Today's slow stitching into the gifts of Tina's soft blue moon and galaxy-ish dyed cloth below.  Much needed rain has been falling off and on for a few days.  I love the coziness of it.

    Four posts in four days... I won't say anything more about that, don't want to jinx it.

    There will be a break next week, when I fly east to spend time with my sister.  It's been three years since we've spent time together.

    The last time was the lovely Maine trip in the fall of 2018.  That was just before Dad died.  We did see each other twice in the midst of family during 2019, as we gathered to clean out his house, and then again to put his ashes into the sea.  I was very shut down during those times, mostly keeping to myself, just trying to get through.  It was a dark year, for other reasons too.  All to say, I'm really looking forward to time alone with her again.

    I've been so looking forward to it that I've texted an occasional countdown of days to her.  The other day I sent a very excited message saying, "One week from right now, we'll be on the road!"  Her response informed me that it was Tuesday, NOT Wednesday, as I had thought, and that I had given her a flash of stress and panic, thinking that she had scheduled time off of work, lodging, etc. for the wrong day.  There were a few other words, too, but I won't repeat them.  Oops. 

    Each morning I wake up and try to get a grasp on what day it is, chanting it to myself a few times, hoping that the information will stick.  Win some, lose some.

Stitching Stolen Lives

    Stitching Stolen Lives: The Social Justice Sewing Academy Remembrance Project by Sara Trail and Teresa Duryea Wong.
    This arrived last week!  A  beautiful powerful book sharing the stories of lives lost due to social injustice, quilt blocks and quilts created to honor them, and the empowering community work of The Social Justice Sewing Academy.

    This is Sara Trail, one of the authors, founder of The Social Justice Sewing Academy, quilter, a powerhouse for Good and Justice in this world, and only 26 years old!  This young woman has already done more than I can even dream of accomplishing in my lifetime.

    I'm very honored to have the blocks that I stitched in honor of Michael Brown and Cameron Lamb included.  (You can read more about the making of these blocks by clicking on the "Social Justice Sewing Academy" category at the bottom of this post.)

    You can order your own copy here (100% of royalties are being donated to the Social Justice Sewing Academy).  Please visit the SJSA website to learn more about their important empowering community work. 

Last week & today

    Yesterday I stitched a star.  The first in a week.

    When I got home last Monday, there was a lot of laundry and picking up to do.  Chores had been ignored by all of us for the last few weeks.  We all kind of threw in the towel and just got through...  I didn't stitch at all for a couple of days.  There was putzing, tidying, show watching... dinners were cooked.

    After a couple of days of nothing, I continued quilting on the woven blanket.  It was on the end of the couch, right where I left it.

    Each night I would fall asleep thinking, "Tomorrow I'll get back to making pieces, blogging, instagram, get focused, get going..."  And then another day of just quilting would happen.

    Friday I went up to the bookroom.  The room where you can't see the books because of all of the stuff that all of us have thrown into it over the last decade or so.  Using Moon's bedroom as a staging area, I pulled out a couple of boxes, started sorting, got overwhelmed, went back downstairs and went back to quilting.

    "You have until Monday," I told myself.

    On Saturday, K said that his sister wanted to borrow something, did I know where it was?  We dug around in the bookroom piles...nope.  Which could only mean that it was in the basement.  Sigh.  It's in about the same state as the bookroom, plus twenty years.  (There was a big clean out some years ago, but still... this nest is anything but empty.)  I headed down. 

      And I've gone down for an hour or two each day since.  The thing was found!  The car trunk is full of donations... with many more trunk loads to go, but it's a start.  Photos and question marks are sent to the boys, piles are left in the living room for K to decide about when he gets home, and "Donate!" has been the reply most of the time.  We are all ready to let go.

    And this morning, a blue pen was used.  It was sitting there, I reached for it, but then thought, no, it's always the black pen, size S.  An unwritten rule.  A pause happened, and then a realization that I made the rules, and could change them, or just break them.  A small thing, but still not so easy for this OCD soul.

    There are more pieces to these stories, but I'm still not focused, my thoughts are scattered all over the place, or gone altogether, but I'm good.

    And today this piece was finished.

    It's about making one's own magic.

Week before last

    Monday and Tuesday I drove to Whidbey Island to attend and assist Christine Mauersberger's "Meditative Stitching" workshop.  

    Two peaceful quiet stitching days listening to Christine's insights with lovely women.

    Tuesday's sunrise seen on the ferry. 

    I probably drove more last week than I have in the last year put together.  I have such anxiety about driving, especially now that I do it so infrequently, but it was good to rediscover that I'm capable-ish.

    One day at home, spent packing myself and Moon.  Thursday we drove him up to Bellingham.  Because of COVID restrictions and his being SO READY to start this new chapter, the three of us made three trips with his boxes to the third floor dorm room, and I barely had time to even get misty-eyed during the quick goodbye hugs, in the rush to get us out of there in his thirty allowed slotted minutes.  (Deb, I did wave across town to you!)

    And then I drove back to the island, returning home on Monday night.

    My work table during the four days of Christine's "Binding Time" workshop.  More lovely women, and much more active.  Indigo pots, cyanotype, stitching, gelli plate printing, collaging, and more!  (Including dyeing some thread in my tea (above).)

    There's not much call for sequins in my life, but I do love them.  It was great to have time to play, to work and share with other makers, and to spend time hanging out with Christine during prep, clean up, etc.

    There was a crazy wind storm one day.  The kind of wind that tries to move your car off of the road.  Power was out for some of the island that evening, including the place where I stayed.  Leftovers were wrapped in foil and heated up on the barbeque, and I was in bed at 7:45 due to the dark and cold.

    The clouds were incredible.

    The workshops were held in this spacious building.

    Each day was a new story in the sky.

    There's more to say, but this is a start... hope you are all well.

Coming up for air

    Quilting these woven hillsides... all I want to be doing.

    One little moon was started, but I am so distracted by those hills.  (This one might take a while, but there are a few other pieces in the shop).

    Thanks to Dee for her gift of scraps, including these golden moon bits, Tina for the deep purple night, and for Deb's golden threads that add to the glow.

    I wish I had one to share...  These days are filled with day-to-day-ness and/or the scurrying and worrying of getting Moon ready to head off to college (one week!).  There's actually not too much worrying, with him being the second send-off, and so much closer than Blue was, anything needed can be delivered in a daytrip.  There may still be a few anxieties going on (his and mine), but we are all excited and ready for this next step to happen.

    He insists on taking this old blanket, so some mending has been done to hold it together.  It's so threadbare, a synthetic purchase from a department store in the late 80's (probably the only bought blanket in the house).  Covered with silly sheep.  He loves it.  He says he'll take the quilt I made him, too.  At least there's that.

    We have packing piles all throughout the house... his for school, and two for me.  I'm delighted to be assisting Christine Mauersberger during her workshops next week (this one and this one).  It's going to be a busy good week!

    In the meantime, there are hills to stitch....

    And, yes, I am going about this project in every direction at once, trusting that it will all work out in the end.