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There was a sudden realization that I'd misplaced a page on the new booklet. That when folded up, two pages that were supposed to be side-by-side would not be. With an "Arrrrgh!", I put it down. A visiting friend, said a "Fiddlesticks!" for me, and then a "What are you doing?!", as I grabbed it and tore off one end of it.
It was moved, bandaged, and mended, easy-peasy. It even led to new thoughts and possibilities.
Fiddlesticks- they are welcome here.
Wondered to myself this morning, and then a little with Grace this eve, about how it seems the same stars, moon, water, birds keep getting stitched. Mostly on the same cloths. The same blues.
She said, "It's our theme...these over and overs. We need, NEED to repeat until we feel that what wants to be said has been...over and over."
I don't know what I'm trying to say, if anything, which is maybe why it's over and over. Maybe I'm not "saying" anything. Maybe it's just wishing. Maybe I just need that trip to the stars and moon that my second grade Weekly Reader newspaper promised would be possible someday?
Maybe just daydreaming?
or clothdreaming . . .
A mostly quiet weekend (there was a brief bowling excursion). A new booklet begun. Twinkle was happy to join me sitting still in the sunshine for a long spell of stitching. And it's Fall!
I had thought this would become a page in a booklet, but dearest friend came by on the first day of stitching it. She wanted her. So, there it was. And now she is on her wall. They belong together.
We met when I was very pregnant with Blue. She was interviewing at the school and I was resting on the classroom floor during recess (imagine a beached whale). We slowly became over the years. She is one of the best people I know- wicked smart, passionate, thoughtful, cool, and straight up, and still growing.
She is always becoming . . . more and more.
I sliced and wove into the "uncertainty" blanket, inspired by the "Considering Weave" continuings. What I like about it is that there is no right side, that the green weft is on both sides. It's not between, so, does that mean that there is only one side?
A blanket with a side. A one sided blanket. My blanket's side.
And what about being inside of a blanket? Is that really possible? And is it possible to be outside of it?
I might need more sleep . . . under the side of "uncertainty", of course.
K has gone to Portland to see his mom. Hospice says these are the last weeks. Blue has been home sick for two days. Moon is worrying about middle school and death. A fifth grader, at the math table I was trying to manage, said, "I've never seen you mad before." "I'm not mad, but I am tired."
But later in the day, looking out of the back window, into the woods behind our house, I saw a yellow bird. It flew from branch to branch, eating the mountain ash berries, pecking at the apples, and singing out. I just stood there watching and listening, it only lasted for about five minutes, but it was such a good heart warming dose of yellow.
There is no photo of it, those are the trees behind our house, after the bird. I have no idea what kind of bird it was . . . but it was yellow . . . and lovely . . . and I was . . and am . . . grateful.
Jude had commented "becoming" on this piece. I've been playing around with the word ever since. Loving that it means more than one thing, adjective and noun, and that both things apply to the story of it. It's still becoming . . .
Becoming- "any process of change."
More becoming, becoming more.
Blue had a double header yesterday, in the middle of nowhere. They were losing, it was hot, I'd forgotten my glasses, meaning I couldn't stitch on the piece I'd brought. So, I dug through the thread bag, finding all the little scraps at the bottom, and put them together.
When I ran out of fabric, still restless, I started on the skirt I was wearing . . . I really can't sit still.
There was a view of Mt. Rainier, that helped.
I came home from school yesterday and went straight to bed with a back-to-school cold. The night was full of dreams, broken scenarios of performance art knitting of masks that transformed into morphing moons.
Fortunately, today was a day off of school, and on the couch. Hours of stitching and tea. This moon woman is imagining a new way of being for herself.
And a continuing thank you to Jude for her gifts of cloth and inspiration.
There were two half hours, yesterday and today, of calm peaceful stitching. The first since school started. Also, a realization of how important blocks of focused time are. Chunks of time with no to-do lists running through the mind, or wondering how many minutes until it's time to go? Quiet, alone, and awake- with time to sink in and just be with the cloth.
(p.s. The new job is fine and dandy, I like the teachers I'm working with, and the kids are great (even the two girls that I separated during art yesterday, after which they whispered and glared at me- to which I just smiled and raised my eyebrow). So, this is not complaining, just saying, and adjusting.
