handstories

peace dreaming

    It seems I'm lost in the last hazy days of summer.  Focus is hard to grasp.  The other day I had to pull over to remember where I was going and how to get there...to a place I go every other week.  

    Suddenly autumn has arrived.  There's a golden edge to the leaves and a welcomed coolness in the air.  It will probably be good for me once school starts, to be in a routine again, be accountable...but I can't imagine it right now.

    In an effort to find some grounding, stitching has finally begun on my pennant for Mo's  Gathering- her collaborative creation "I Dream of a World Where Love is the Answer."  Mo's deep and wide visions, eye and talent for the tiniest details, combined with her deep heart and love for this world and all it holds, are sure to make this installation an amazing gift to behold.  

    The satin was dipped in the fading moments of last summer's indigo, leaving it with a silvery shimmer.  I'm not quite sure how this will go... imagining pieced peace filled spheres (planet and moon thoughts), and there will be stars, many many stars to map the story, guide the way, pin hopes on, and for wishing...

deliberated.

    Something new for the fridge.  It was a very dull civil case, an appeal to overturn the Board of Labor and Industry's decision.  Which meant that the two lawyers read the transcript of the original proceedings with the Board.  No witnesses, objections, motions, nothing... just pages after monotone pages of testimonies from doctors and more doctors.  Days of it.  We all nodded off at least once, including the judge.

sea relief

    We had been talking about a vacation, but not doing anything to make it happen.  On Saturday I was looking at places by the sea, and by the end of the day a short trip to the Oregon Coast was planned and booked for later in the month.  

    Yesterday, in the jury pool room, my number was called, they handed us a questionnaire (not a good sign).  It asked if we would have a problem being on a trial that involves a death?  And if we were available for most of the month?

    My insides went into knots.  I wrote that we had plans, and had paid for, a family vacation.  I focused on the ocean, seeing myself there, hoping K. and Moon wouldn't be going without me, that I'd be looking at and listening to the waves, rather than crime scene photos and mourning family members.  I was excused!

    Once home, I looked up the case.  Horrific.  Such relief not to be a part of it.  I am serving on a different trial for the next week or so.  Fine.

    All of this put me completely out of sorts last night, that and this being Blue's last week home until Christmas, and it's hot.  We always go around the table and say something we're grateful for before dinner.  "I'm just sad," I said, and left the table crying.  

    Later, I gathered these cloths and a new idea is forming- a booklet-talisman-prayer-cloth sort of thing.  I'll take it with me to court today.

    Wishing you all, and the world some pieces of peace.

We are all just walking each other home

Singing In the Rain Family Choir, June 2017

Walking Each Other Home

We are all just walking each other home.
We are all just walking each other home.
We are all just walking each other home.
We are all just walking each other home.

Lyrics: Ram Dass. Music: Kate Munger ©3/2013

    My  favorite song from our concert the other night.  

    It comes from the Threshold Choir, a group who's mission is "to bring ease and comfort to those at the thresholds of living and dying."

    As we sang, a collection was taken for the ASAP (Asylum Seeker Advocacy Project/Urban Justice League).  

    When we were in full harmony (just after 2:00 min.), the beautiful space seemed to swell with song and emotions...for loved ones, for the children, the parents, and for each other.

still going . . .

"Here there be no monsters"  2011

    Seven years ago today, this photo was part of my first blog post. Wanting to be able to share more with Jude's "Contemporary Woven Boro" class, I leapt off of what seemed like a terrifying cliff at the time and began...

    "The best part of this experience is learning that the world is not flat.  There are no limits... Thinking of old maps that said, "Here there be monsters" on the edges of the unknown.  Working against my inner monsters/fears of taking risks..."

    I was so happy- to have found Jude and this community, to be learning new things, to be trying, to be growing, and to be finding a voice.

    And I still am.  oxo

    (And speaking of how much I appreciate this lovely rich community...  The moon is one of Jude's Threadcrumbs, Tina dyed the gorgeous lemon-lime boat cloth, and the delicious raspberry sail was colored by Deb.)

in search of safe keeping

    There was storm painting in watercolor class today.  

    I'm running a bit on empty these days.  School, home . . . technical difficulties inside and out.  

    There was a lovely half hour with kindergarteners yesterday . . . making Valentines.  I started singing- "You Are My Sunshine", "Love Is Something If You Give It Away" and "Red River Valley".  Old favorites.  It's been a long time.  We were all happy, singing and humming together, and then a boy with a bloody nose happened.  Sigh, it was swell while it lasted.

    And then came home to the news of the latest school shooting.

    I started this piece way back here.  On the day Blue's classroom window was shot at with a BB gun, a few days before the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting. 

"Bubble" 

    Later, driving Moon home from school, talking about the shootings, I asked him if he knew what to do if it happened at his school?  

    And then proceeded to give him advice and suggestions.

    And then stopped and said, "I can't believe I have to talk to you about this."  

    And then arrived home, where I sat and cried for the children.

now & before & now

    Stitching slow peaceful stitches, using Jude's invisible baste beside each seam.  The most meditative stitch, one that I will never be able to say "thank you" to her enough for.  I use it for resting, relaxing, calming...  Today I have a jumbled hurting head.

    Yesterday this came in the mail.

    The last time jury duty summoned was about twenty-five years ago.  A horrible case.  Before the selection they handed us a questionnaire regarding it.  "Have you ever known someone who was sexually assaulted?  Been the victim of a sexual assault?  Do you know any police officers?"  On and on...  I said yes to most of the questions.  By the end of the page I knew which case this was.  The kidnap and raping of a teenage girl, who's mother was a police officer.  They lived two blocks away from us.  

    Well, that's that, I thought.  As a victim myself, friend of victims, member of a radical leftist bookstore (no one at the store ever got onto a jury), in the same neighborhood, and during the selection I told the defense attorney, "I tend to always believe the victim, excuse me, alleged victim." There was no way I would be on this trial.

    I was the foreperson of the jury.  An emotional and exhausting three weeks followed, with three days of stressful deliberations.  

    He should be getting out of jail just about now.  There was no doubt in my mind that he had committed the crimes.  There was also no denying that this young man had grown up without support or guidance from his family or community.  He was guilty, but so were many others, including society, for allowing his life to fall through the cracks. 

    Faced with the possibility of doing this again, I feel sad and tired.  

    This morning I had it deferred until summer time.  I don't want to miss days with the children at school.

a little piece of peace

 

    Tonight, in the dim of the lamp, this little one inch home, filled with and surrounded by light.  Just as I feel in the midst of this community.  After posting last night, I went to bed, and then woke up in the middle of the night in a panic.  "Why did I write all of that?!?"  But after getting out of bed, turning on the computer and seeing that there were already a couple of supportive comments, I knew it was all ok, and went back to sleep.  

    A dream came- of being in Grandma Blanche's bar.  It was filled with family and others from the past.  Many acting in the same old ways.  Someone was trying to convince me it wasn't so bad, but standing there, in the middle of it all, I said, "Yes, it is." and walked out.

    Thank you, again, to all of you who are a part of this wonderful circle.  Onward we all go...

woven in

    The fabric of this indigo dipped moon by Jude is really amazing.  A tiny tapestry.  I don't know enough about cloth to say anything more, other than how beautiful it is, especially up close like this.  So many story possibilities in just a couple of inches. 

    This came together quickly, yesterday and today.  With some of Liz's cochineal peace silk for a sail, and cloth and threads by Deb for the ship and stitches. Gathering bits from others in this community felt as if extra strength was being woven in.  I'm noticing (again) how much story carries my makings.  Whether it's a message, feeling, or an imagining... when I hold something, not an image of what might come, but rather some kind of thought that I want to come through, things almost seem to make themselves.
"She was carried through on strength and starlight"

    There is still unpacking to do, and laundry (if I want something to wear tomorrow), no matter... It felt good to spend the last two days on this little cloth, and I'm glad it will get to her before her surgery next week.  

gifts of peace

    Liz sent a wonderful Peace package containing one of Barry's beautiful leaves, a lovely letter-pressed message by Fiona, and a gorgeous piece of her own hand dyed silk.  Each item made with an artist's hand and heart, carrying hope for our broken world as a part of the International Day of Peace on September 21.  Liz shared about it here.

    I am touched by their spirits and generosity, and as I said to Liz, I am ever grateful and uplifted to be a part of this beautiful community.

    The silver sail of peace is being exchanged for one made of the deep cochineal pink of Liz's cloth.  Both shimmer with tenderness and passion.  

    Thank you so very much, Liz, Barry and Fiona.