handstories

april

    (clicking on a photo will take you closer)

spring & things

    For good or bad, one thing about me is that I don't end things.  Whether it comes from fear, loyalty, or stubbornness, I don't know.  Probably all three.  Things fade away, run their course, etc., but I don't initiate the changes.  Until now.  After twenty-three years, I will not return to the school next fall.   I am sad, excited, nervous, relieved, etc...and sure.  It is time.

    I have spent the last three days, since making the announcement, stitching together big chunks of cloth.  Just reaching into the box and taking out what is on top, not thinking about how it will look or fit together.  

    Yards and yards of running stitches and Jude's "glue-stitching" on the seams.  Holding things together.

     I have absolutely no idea what comes next, but I can wrap up in cloth, and wait for things to settle, and for new paths to make themselves known.

steps

    I had a dream the other night. 

    I found myself in the middle of a race.  Not being a runner, it felt like a nightmare at first, but then I began putting one foot in front of the other.  

    The other runners began to fall away, ahead and behind.  The road turned into paths through a forest.  It was beautiful, unknown.  There was a worry of not knowing which way to turn, but that was let go of.  

    "It will become clear," I told myself, and ran slowly on.

relief

    Portland was fun.  (Well, not the 3:40am fire alarm going off, or the half an hour on the sidewalk waiting for the fire fighters to give the all clear to go back into the hotel!)  There was good food and drink, wandering through interesting shops, including one with a stack of Japanese boro cloths.  I enjoyed opening them up and feeling their patch and stitch.

    AND...after weeks of waiting for a letter...weeks of visualizing like I have never done before...of not letting myself say "if" only "when"...and not allowing worst case scenarios to play out in my mind...I even wrote the letter-having it say all that I wanted it to, ending it with the phrase "It's true.  No doubt about it.  And it will be wonderful.  All will be well."  I read it aloud as I waited for the mailman to come each day.

    It came.

    And it’s true.

    There is no doubt about it.

    And it will be wonderful.

    And All will be well.

eye'm looking

    A couple more eyes this week.  

   I think I need to finish this piece up, a part of letting go of things.

    We're having a mostly stay-cation here for Spring Break.  

    Boys and baseball.  

    Tomorrow I'll be off to Portland with a girlfriend for a couple days...Girl time!

charms

    Touching...Moon's hair, Grace's cloth, the fringe on a piece by Jude...counting thirteens, Wonder Woman's bracelet, blue stones, visualizing words . . . imagining it all.

    And something new to add...this sweet blue moon, a gift from Tracey Broome.  I greatly admire her beautiful work with clay and open honest spirit.  Thank you Tracey.

    Things to hold on to.

limbo knitting

    I used to knit complicated cables and colorwork.  I would knit five colors at once, each wrapped around a different finger on both hands.  It was challenging and fun, or a great distraction during difficult times.  

    What happened?  In this waiting and waiting time, all I want to do is plain and simple, over and over.  

    There was no pattern, so I guess that was the challenge.  It's fine, it fits, nothing fancy . . . it will do the job . . . of keeping me warm, while I wait and wait . . . any day now.

stitching iowa

    I've begun putting pieces of the Iowa scraps together.  After a thorough washing to remove the mustiness.  (Though there is a fond memory of Great Aunt Peggy's shed that comes along with any musty smell.)

    I'm not sure where I'm going with this.  We're just getting to know each other for now. Stitching on this old sturdy cotton is very different from the thin muslin of more recent projects.  The dresses made from these probably held up quite well during the hard work that a farm woman needed to do.  

knitting with the rain

    It's raining and raining.  I hope it is washing away some of the dizzy-making pollen.

    I may sit here all day . . . happily.

    Cakewalk yarn in "Aztec Tomb".

intention and focus

    It came . . . an altar cloth from Grace, bringing fragments and wind from New Mexico.

    In talking about altars she shared a thought-  "it is about Intention. about Focus i think".

    There are so many beautiful places to focus on in this cloth, with this cloth.  So many ways it honors and holds things.

    Grace, did you know that Janie loved poppies and orange?

    A favorite spot . . .

    I have been focusing for weeks now, on something that would change much.  There is probably still another week or two of limbo to go.  It is/ I am wearing thin.

    This cloth brings a new energy, a new way to be with it all.  

    I'm sure it has many things to hold for days and years to come.

    Thank you, dear sister Grace.  ox