Begun with a desire for justice and that crazy feeling that comes from thinking you are the only one who sees the truth. But things evolve, including me.
In the last weeks, some truth has finally come to light, things will be changing. Am I sorry that I'm not there to see it happen? I don't think so, but I am glad, so glad.
Even in the grayest of days, there are others (the chickadees told me so).
I had thought I was done with this, even though it felt like something was missing. There was an emptiness on the right-hand edge.
With the recent news from my old job, I realized there was room for one more eye, and thought. I'm hoping to be done with it today.
Today "I Eye You" is done. When this piece was started, it was a place to stitch my truths, what I still think is the truth. I imagined waving it in victory when justice finally came to light.
But sometimes you have to decide to keep on fighting, or to accept things. I can't do either.
Knowing the truth will have to be enough . . . just the knowing.
A couple more eyes this week.
I think I need to finish this piece up, a part of letting go of things.
We're having a mostly stay-cation here for Spring Break.
Boys and baseball.
Tomorrow I'll be off to Portland with a girlfriend for a couple days...Girl time!
Sometimes seeing it all can wear one out.
Back to stitiching on "I/eye you", while pondering . . .
. . . the bewildering truth that evidence can be twisted into any shape.
. . . that battlegrounds can be found in the most innocent (and silly) of places.
. . . how often everyone knows, except those who need to.
. . . and that sometimes, even with all the eyes in the world, things can be baffling.
On her blog, Acey recently mentioned "re-building a sense of humor" when things are not in our control and "finding emotional sea legs". Her words came to mind while reading up on dinosaurs (the next unit in 2nd grade). I noticed the balance within their bodies that supported their mass and allowed them to do what they needed to do. I have been around dinosaur units before, but never thought about their legs.
I am struck by the solidness of them, they do not slant out, but are thick vertical columns that support and get the job done. If they stood firmly on them, I imagine it would have been next to impossible to pull or knock one of those legs out from under them. So the trick is to stand solid and firmly, preferrably from an amused distance.
With this in mind, the magic of stitching is happening again. This piece, "I/eye you" began as a vent, and has been picked up and added to in a continuing rant. The other night, tired, stitching and still mad, I just kept grabbing threads out of the tangled "nest" of leftovers, and stitching them any old place. I even took my glasses off, not caring about even or straight (not that caring about even or straight ever produces even or straight in my stitching), color, or order. It is still happening, I am wandering all over the cloth- here, then there . . . and I'm having fun.
There are still a few more things I'd like to say on this cloth, more eyes to look with and squint hard with, and I am day-dreaming of it being a "goodbye" gift, one given on firm footing, with a smile.
And here's my new way of bandaging that spot the needle kept poking when I was stabbing at the fabric.
What to do in a situation when being right may not win, at least not quickly? When words are twisted and reshaped? When attacks come sneaking around corners and catch you in surprise, though disguised as care?
Well, first there was a lot of angry arm waving and panic, and staring out of windows,. But now there is regrouping, stepping back, taking care, and watching and seeing and knowing.
And stitching on this again.
And the bracelet is back on.
