handstories

sailing in many directions

    Happily.  

    Taking moments to get lost in sea and thoughts.

    Even doodling in the classroom (a very old habit).

capacity

    "Why are you stitching those way down in there? . . . "

    " . . . No one will even know they are there."

    Because now I will know they are there.

“The big Mystery of Healing”

 (photo by Wendy Golden-Levitt)

    The very best thing I received on my birthday was an email from Wendy Golden-Levitt (The therapist I sent this cloth to for use in her work with children. Do read more about her textile therapy work here, here, & here). Wendy shared that a girl had taken it for a ride in the sand tray, and had included the poem the she had created as part of her healing process.

        Wendy also wrote, "When I work in the studio, with children and textiles….it is truly a community effort. The therapy facilitated by me, the child, and the cloth…a group of three really.  Without all three working together it is a very different story . . . And when all is working together, the big Mystery of Healing presents itself…and there is movement from conscious suffering to a  life filled with meaning. The experience of V working with your cloth was the beginning of creating a new vital personal myth, challenging the energy of the orphan and wounded child archetypes. V’s relationship to your cloth, allowed for her expression of loss and abandonment to flow through her sand tray, movement and poetry. Thus having the possibility of not identifying with those archetypes, but allowing for new energy to be experienced and valued." 

    The poem and Wendy's thoughts speak to everything I had hoped for while stitching the cloth.  I am still working to hold the ALL of it . . . how this young girl, in another part of the world-saw, felt, knew what was in the cloth, and was able to give out so much of herself in her words and expressions. And there is also the awe and pain from the recognition of feelings that come from sharing like-experiences.

    With permission from Wendy and V., who said it would be “good” to share it, here is V.'s poem:

"it don’t matter

where i dive

from the boat

she made for us kids who come here needing

heart transplants and brain transplants in a therapy way.

that boat already got some shiny things that made me smile.

i love the birds free and happy on the sails.

and the sparkle button treasures in the boat. i love that!!!!!!

put another ten!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!

it’s like a secret that is a good secret

that just makes you so happy and feel so safe.

i'm glad she made a moon , i need this cloth in my mind day and night.

see those swooshes coming out into the sky. that would be my wishes to feel good again.

i think she made this cloth

to make me not so alone.

i get alone feelings like a boat bouncing around in the ocean.

but this boat is so beautiful. i could be this boat instead of a row boat in the dark.

i love her. i feel i love her.

not marry her. but love her, right?

don’t you feel it? love? in her whole cloth?

is she married to the lady who made the magic feather cloth?

they love me don’t they?

the end.

until i go in that boat again.

don’t let any one spit on it please.

the end.

again."

-V.

    I have a heart full of love and gladness . . . for V., for Wendy and this work she does, for being able to play a small part in it, for the surprising gift of some personal healing the making and sharing of this cloth has brought, for Jude, who introduced us to Wendy, and created such a meaningful community that I'm very happy to be a part of.  ox

small makings

    If you're having a yearning for a small little something . . . these little cloths are freshly finished and in the shop.  

nonplussed janxting

    

    Standing in the school library, watching a group of students behave very un-library-like (this after one of them muttered a word at me that I did not know, but was pretty sure of the sentiment behind it), the librarian said to me, "You look very nonplussed."

    I didn't know what that meant either.
        "nonplussed:  a state of utter perplexity."

    Exactly.

    P.S.  I just looked up the word he used in the urban dictionary.

    "Janxt is a word that can be used to describe anything, especially when you can't find a word to otherwise describe it. Popular also as a swear word when swearing is prohibited or just inappropriate."

    Hmmm . . . gold star to him for keeping it appropriate.  I may have to borrow this one.

 

self love

    This is silly, but very swell, I promise.  Our family singing group concert was last night.  Great fun was had by all, especially because there were many songs that the audience joined in with us.  My very favorite was put together by our leader.  It is a compilation of old songs that most of you will recognize . . . "You are the Sunshine of My Life," "You are So Beautiful," "You Light Up My Life," "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman," "I Want to Know What Love Is," and  "I Will Always Love You".  BUT, with a difference . . . The songs have been changed into self-love songs.  Ok, now that you've got the tunes in your head, channel your inner Aretha Franklin and Whitney Houston and sing along.  Go ahead, belt all the love you have, and/or should have for yourself! You deserve it!

SELF LOVE MEDLEY
I am the sunshine of my life, yeah,
That's why I'll always stay around,
I am the apple of my eye,
Forever I'll stay in my heart

I am so beautiful to me
I am so beautiful to me
Can't you see
I'm everything I hoped for
I'm everything I need

And I light up my life,
I give me hope to carry on
I light up my days and fill my nights…

Before the day I met me
Life was so unkind
I'm the key to my piece of mind
‘Cause I make me feel
I make me feel
I make me feel like a natural woman/man

I wanna know what love is
I want me to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know I can show me

And I will always love me
I will always love me
I will always love me!

steadying

  Today I woke up from another stress-filled dream . . . frantically trying to pack, knowing a school bus of children was waiting on me.  Other dreams lately have been the same kind of whirlwinds- jumping from car to car, trying to keep them from careening into each other, holding a child who's been shot, wrestling a gun away from another, finding myself on out of control roller skates, at singing practice and being told I'm not getting it right (which actually does happen, but people are usually kinder about it) . . . and that's just in the last week or so.  

    It's no wonder I wake up tired, and no surprise that I haven't been making in the same way lately.  Stitching time has consisted of mostly stitching long white lines and knitting plain stockinette in that new oatmeal colored yarn.  It does feel that we're in a constant wake of activity and change these days.  Just as things settle, another speed boat of activity or emotion goes whooshing by,  and the waves in its wake swell, tipping us this way and that.  Not bad things really (other than Blue being ready to burst from this little house of ours, leaving behind his broken hearted mama--ha), it's just a busy season in life.

    I've pulled out some half-done little boats,thinking, that if I finish up a few things, it might help in getting a better grip on the helm.  I hope you're all having smooth sailing out there!

and there was cake . . .

    . . . and plenty of pasta, with fancy vinegar and olive oil to dip bread into.

    A conversation with Moon last week . . .

        "Besides some time to yourself, (They know me so well, I didn't even have to ask for that), what else do you want for your birthday?"

        "How about some really good vinegar and olive oil?"

        "If all I wanted vinegar and olive oil for my birthday, I'd be pretty depressed."

    Well, I'm not, the new condiments are delicious!

knitting love

    The birthday began with opening this mug from my sister.  Just add something hot . . .

    . . . and Mr. Rogers' blue suit changes into a golden sweater.  He was all comfy and ready to share tea and stitching time with me.  Did you know that his mother knit the sweaters he wore on his show?  Watch here.  (I think I fell a little more in love with him.)

 

   I started that new sweater.  (Yes, I know it's not blue, but this Caspian earth-tone kept whispering to me).

 

when I'm 53 . . .

    I will spend tomorrow, the first day of fifty-three, stitching, spinning, reading the new issue of Taproot, maybe watch a movie, and then eat pasta and chantilly cake with my guys, and, hopefully, take a bath in a tub that, hopefully, someone has scrubbed for me.

    And, sometime in the following 364 days, I hope to knit another blue sweater, submit an entry in a local art show, get a new tattoo, find a watercolor class to take, legally change my name to Hazel (more about that another day), and work on being braver.

    "Slowly growing into myself"