handstories

conflictions

    This booklet is a slow, but peace filled journey.  I could do with a little bobbing on the sea, or a really good loud storm.  Hard to tell which would hit the spot best.

letting go of self

    In art class today the kids were working on painting in their silhouettes.  I was busy helping set up something for another class.  Watching some of them carefully paint rainbow lines, mixing and mixing trying to get the perfect pink, or worrying about staying inside the traced lines . . . I couldn't stand it.  Abandoning my job, I sat down and began slapping and dashing paint.  It was only a few minutes.  Finishing, I said, "That felt SO good!"  There were some puzzled looks, and wonderings of what's going on inside of my head, but there were also some paintbrushes that began moving faster and wilder.

what's left behind?

    Mo asked to see the backside of "self-talk".  Here it is.  You can never be sure what the back story is, can you?

    We are just back from a weekend with K's relatives.  There was the graveside service, family gatherings, and quiet times with one of his sisters.  Listening to stories and all of the many perspectives was interesting.  We all hold things in our own way.      

    Leaving for the cemetery with K's sister, I picked up the urn, saying, "It's so heavy."  

    She responded, "It's so small."  

    The bigness of each life is surprising.

by a thread

    I'm calling this collection of words and scraps "self-talk".  Each day, since the new year began, I ask myself what thought do I need to hold on to?  A little morning pep talk, of sorts, a wanting to claim the words and fasten them into my being.  It's especially good on those days when feelings are full of smallness and nevers.  This cloth is not as pretty and flowing as the "2013" piece, and that's ok, it's got a job to do.

drops & arcs

     Still traveling...wandering...meandering through this booklet.  The blue dots were made during the rain and wind yesterday- a rain rainbow.  Streams of water ran down the sides of the road, puddles grew in the yard, and the windows were pelted.  Everything feels gray.

    I'm thinking this needs I need a bigger rainbow.

bejeweled

    Wandering through enchanted mountains and swaying towers.    

    (The skies are so gray and drippy here.  It's nice to have this small world to sojourn to.)

sad & glad

    Yesterday, after four months of teetering in-between, K's mom died peacefully at home, with him and one of his sisters by her side.  

    She was ready months ago, announced it.   Last month, on the phone, she told K it would be the next day.  He reminded her that he was coming to see her.  "When will you get here?  You might want to leave earlier!"  She was so disappointed when it didn't happen- closing her eyes tight, holding her daughter's hand for ten minutes, and then opening her eyes and being so surprised she was still here.

    I met her when I was sixteen.  She was an opinionated woman who loved her family, with a strong faith, a kindergarten teacher, a good grandma, and she didn't compromise.  We were not always easy for each other.  Maybe because we were so alike in many ways, K's dad used to say so.  We did share a sense of humor.  She loved a good laugh.

    During our visit over the holidays, she was mostly unresponsive, but the day we were leaving she perked up- knowing who the boys were and telling them that she loved them, calling me "sweetie".  She saw a ceiling full of birds and people above the trees.  I hope they were old friends.

    (The wall hanging and rug are weavings she made for us years ago.)

making & taking shape

    The new booklet has been going along, but it reached a standstill yesterday.  I was turning it every which way, looking for the story thread.  It was time to snip down the center line and allow the pages to be turned.

    That's all it took for the tale of "the queen's wanderlust" to begin.  (To be continued . . .)

    A heartfelt "Thank you!" to all who have come by and visited the new shop.  I've mailed two booklets off in the last week, and had expected to feel a little sad in saying good bye to them, but instead felt rather giddy at the adventures they were off to!  

a new chapter in the story

    Making these booklets is a joining of passions- stitching, stories, and words.   Bringing the layers of cloth and story together has been a coming home of sorts. 

    A big thank you to you all, for coming here, for the lovely comments, for those who have places of their own that offer inspiration, and the biggest of all to Jude of Spirit Cloth, for all she has shared over the years (Has it been years?  It feels like a blink.)  Her offerings (creations, workshops, encouragement, etc.) have given my story a twist that I will forever be grateful for.

    There may still be some glitches to work out, but I'm taking Jude's advice of  "Just do it and worry about it later," . . .  here goes the next "what if" in this tale of mine . . .  a little shop.  Here.   

mysteries

    Every day this piece changes direction.  I wonder where it will go tomorrow?

    As for this odd collection of recent stories . . . 

    The Bible . . . Someone broke into our car.  Well, actually, someone who didn't own the car opened the door I left unlocked in the middle of the night.  They didn't take much - a few old gift cards, a sunglasses case (but not the sunglasses?), and a weird tool that will break car windows (I bought it when we bought a car with automatic windows, for fear of being trapped under water.)  BUT, they  left  behind this little Bible, with the business card of their Public Defender Social Worker inside of it.  I guess they were done with both.

    The earring . . . I've been wearing these earrings almost every day for a few years.  Every now and then I lose one in the house, but it always turns up.  One went missing the first day of winter vacation.  I cleaned, cleaned again, offered a reward to whoever found it, we all cleaned . . . nothing.  Two weeks later, the day vacation ended, I decided it was time to give up and buy another pair.  I thought this on my way out the door.  Stopping to put a letter in the mailbox, something glittered inside.  Who put it in the mailbox?  How long had it been there?  

    The moss and lichen . . . I just liked them.  They blew onto the walkway during a windy night.

    Life is interesting.