handstories

Gathering light

"How it Would Be"

    A thin moon layer of Heike's dyed silk allows Deb's wonder cloth to shine through.

"Unexpected Rainbows"

    Bigger than usual, 9" x 7".  More of Deb's cloth sailing in the breeze.

    My favorite spot.

    Life is in a tunnel right now, but there are a couple of lights twinkling at the end of it. 

    Spectrums.

    I have the hardest time photographing paintings.  The light is rarely right.

    Two friends, by two favorite artists.  "Story" made by Cathy Cullis many years ago (resting in a bluebird tea cup that matches one belonging to a dear friend.  She gave it to me so that we could imagine having tea together anytime), and a painting by Amanda Blake, "She Kept Herself Safe".  It was a rare spontaneous instantaneous purchase a few years ago.  I named her "Lucinda," and just looked up the meaning- light, of course.  They are across the table directly in front of me as I stitch.  Keeping company and an eye on things.  There are a few more friends here, but these two are giving me meaningful looks today

    The teacup friend texted today, "Are you ok?" 

        "Nope.  But trying to be."

"Gathering Light"

   Or "Audrey the Third" if you're Dee (ha, inside joke).  A Threadcrumb moon, deep purple wave by Tina and the sky, and reverse-side patch in the bottom corner, are a Maiwa cloth.

Sailing, cinnamon rolls & moon dreaming

"She Journeyed On"

    When I found this tiny ship in a bottle on my basement shelves in the school I was leaving after 23 years... I didn't think twice about keeping it.  Whoever it belonged to before, clearly the universe meant it for me.  It was time to set sail... 

    I wonder if I'll ever stitch such a grand ship (or be able to?)

    How many candles can you fit on a cinnamon roll?

    Nineteen.

    For Moon.  

    We were glad for the decision to only put the candles on one roll!

    I'm the only one in the house who still asks for a cake.

    The tiniest of scraps can make a world.

    There was a fall on the front porch two days ago- stepping down the front porch stairs with arms full of damp laundry to put out on the drying racks, turning around to reclose the door that hadn't quite latched, tripping over the now trailing bedsheet in shoes that were too loosely tied...

    Falling so slowly that there was time to wonder if I could catch myself, or would I go off the edge of the porch taking the window boxes with me, or maybe (as the stumble picked up speed and turned into a tumble) go through the screen door, and most importantly a quick prayer to the sky that no one was coming up or down the sidewalk and that none of the neighbors were looking out of their windows. 

    All the while fumbling to get my hands untangled from the laundry to stop the plummeting off of the porch.  One hand got free in time to grab the screen and push it into the watering can, jar, etc. that later needed retrieved out of the ferns below.  I landed in a full out sprawl-splat, knocking the flower boxes a few inches over the edge, but not off.  Banged and bruised, but grateful that there was only the cat as a witness.  Still quite sore, but the bruises are getting pretty.  Just don't bounce like I used to.

    Friends are sailing out on the ocean, with experienced friends to help them on their first sea trip.  Hoping they're gaining confidence, and that I'll be able to have a turn soon....  They left Portland on Friday and will reach Point Roberts (the tiny tip of the U.S. that's attached to Canada) by Tuesday.  With the help of a find-my-friend feature on the phone, I'm able to see about where they are, and was excited and envious while watching them cross the bar from the Columbia River onto the Pacific.  It's such a beautiful powerful spot where the river meets the sea.

    Dreaming of a moonlit sail...

"Moon Dreams in Blue"

Tree dreams

    Today's trees made while remembering lots of camping trips- good and not-so-much.

    It's been too many years since we last camped.  One of those not-so-much trips led the boys veto the idea over and over afterwards.  In their defense, it was a really bad trip.  Hot, too hot for a campfire, too hot to cook, huge horseflies, mosquitoes, etc...  There were tears and tantrums from a few of us, until we finally gave up and took our sweaty-dirty-camping-clothed selves to the somewhat fancy restaurant at the Lodge down the road, and paid way too much for a mediocre meal in air conditioning.

    I'm looking forward to camping again, once it's just the two of us.

    There may be way too many Big Plans floating around in my head for the just-the-two-of-us days to come, but a soul can dream of trees…

Moon gathering

    "Momentum of Moons"  Deb's threads run through this group of moons.  I couldn't find a collective noun for moons.  Perhaps a "jupiter of moons"?  (Jupiter has the most, 79!)

    Lake Washington just before dusk, about a mile down and around the hill from home. 

    One good thing about this pandemic is how it's forcing folks to get creative.  A friend and I have come up with several new date ideas to replace our usual restaurant dates.  Last evening, we met at the lake (above) with our camping chairs, coats, gloves, hats, and blankets (along with a bit of wine in our travel mugs for extra warmth).  We've done this a few times, watching the moonrise and talking until we're shivering or need a bathroom. 

    We've taken our lunches (and blankets) to various lakeside spots around the city, and to a deserted college campus.  And there was a lovely afternoon taking the ferry.  People who drive on are being asked to stay in their cars, so, as walk-ons, we had the seating area almost to ourselves.  After a beautiful hour long ride across the Puget Sound, we found a bench on the other side, and enjoyed our lunches with a new water view.  It's been great to spend our time together outside, and much cheaper!   We've agreed that we should keep meeting up in these ways even after things go back to normal.

    Tomorrow K and I are going to drive to Portland for the day to celebrate his sister's birthday with her.  There will be soup and cake on her porch.  It will be nice to see her and different views.  K will drive so I'll be able to spend hours knitting on the deep purple socks that are on my needles.

    All of these things would have seemed so small a year ago, not even worth mentioning.  Now they are highlights and full of possible fascinations.

    "Dancing With the Moon"  Both sides of the printed cloth on the bottom are showing, because I couldn't decide.  Doesn't Tina's pink just make this moon glow?

blue medicine

    The cat threw up at 5 am, just outside the bedroom.  The phone rang before anyone was up, a junk call.  The neighbor below the studio windows has been having his roof redone with non-stop machinery since 8 am. 

    All morning I shuffled through half finished things, piles of cloth, papers, rearranging, making no progress, and a needle was lost on the floor in here somewhere. 

    Finally, I told myself to make something blue.  It took an hour to get this far...

    Some hot chocolate was made, and then everything was stitched, and then some.  Using some of my favorite Deb threads and cloths from Jude, I made myself a place to be.  It's a very quiet place, with a rosy view and a magic door that requires an unknown password for others to pass through.  There's even a garden.

Time in cloth & thoughts

    Beginning with one of Jude's moons, this cloth exploded into being... "Cosmic Crossroads".

    The morning paintings are looking more and more like cloth to me.  There are a few ideas about following this thread.  So many ideas, and even with all of the time in today's world, it still doesn't seem enough.

    Moon and I are home alone for a few days.  Still, with most of his day spent at school in his room, other than meals, I hardly see him.  I'm grateful for the moments of connection when he pops downstairs to share something of interest now and then.

    School is going so much better for him (and us!) than last spring.  There is no blame in that statement.  No one was prepared for what happened and everyone did the best they could, but really, for the most part it was a wash.  This year there are expectations and accountability- class, small group and one on one meetings with teachers and other students. 

    Moon even loves most of his classes- especially theater (we're looking forward to the upcoming online productions they're creating), physics and math.  I've listened to his recently written one-act (death, chess and existentialism), tried to understand the existence of ten dimensions (I got lost in the sixth), and the other night, when he came down distressed, feeling that he and his peers are losing this last year of childhood because of the virus, listened, and tried to offer hope, as he hoped that his passion for math and physics lasts, and that "someday, if I'm lucky, I'll figure out a way for kids not to be afraid of time like I am."  His deep thinking has always amazed me.    (P.S.  My time has been spent with thread (with no idea of which dimension I'm in).  These tokens, "Cosmic Crossroads" and other story cloths will be in the shop tomorrow (Friday, October 14th, 9am PST).  Thank you for taking a look!)

There & here

    It was a very nice anniversary, thank you again for all of the sweet wishes.

    We took a drive up to Bellingham for a lunch of our favorite peanut soup and to spend a little time in the trees (and in memory lane) along Chuckanut Drive.  There was an added treat of stopping by Deb's to wave to her and Lola over her gate!

    It is truly an autumn-blanket-on-the-lap-tea-in-the-afternoon kind of day here. 

    This piece has turned itself around and around in my head and hands.  Carrying home, going home, being home...it's all of it.

    I do think things from the last few days are about being content.

    And those loops of thread are heading back to their natural state.

Trees & daydreams

    Tina's beautiful dyeing makes a great stormy twilight sky.

    This gave me an idea last night.

    Sometimes every day seems exactly the same, not in a bad way necessarily, but you never know what might change.  Even the smallest thing can matter.

    There are new story cloths in the shop today- lots of trees and daydreams.  

A prayer to the Sky Spirits

    Thank you.

    Thank you.

        Thank you.
 
    Please...

Dreamy

         After watching the full moon rise the other night, there was a really good dream.  K. was surprised, and couldn't remember the last time that had happened.  He's right, they are usually murders and mayhem.  But this one was lovely, with an edge of sadness, but even that was ok.  I was a widow, and had made a tiny handmade paper book that was to be a gift for a new love, who was both a prisoner and the jailer at the same time.  I came to visit each day, sitting in a tiny cottage just outside and stitched while we talked and sometimes danced.  Once while turning slowly to the music, I wept, remembering my first husband.  There was a pregnancy, too.  We watched as the baby rolled and stretched in my belly.  During all of this there was wondering about what to put into the book... pressed leaves, paintings, poems?

    In the morning there was a little more work on the tiny book.        The next night's stories were of visiting Wes Anderson sets-  rooms with pink walls hung with pretty paintings and antlers... all the while trying to convince family members we weren't so different.        Then, in real life, but just as dreamy, came wonderful mail from Deb Lacativa.  This sky is just a bit of a length of cloth that holds so many stories waiting to be stitched, and I wish you could feel and see how silky and soft that moon cloth is.        And I am absolutely in love with this beautiful piece.  I just keep carrying it from place to place with me.