handstories

Spring is all around

        “Spring is in the Air” with one of Jude's moons.

    A sign of hope filled the sky the other day.

    I've been trying to push myself out the door more.  Realizing how too comfortable I've become being alone.  With going out and about less and less, it's more and more uncomfortable stressful anxiety filled when I do. 

    So, I've made a few dates, reached out some, gone back to the pool, and started volunteering with a local art program for adults with developmental disabilities.  There are about twenty artists who come and go in the open studio. It's a lovely calm space with everyone doing their own thing- creating three dimensional objects, painting, collage, knitting, etc... 

    M. has made dozens of dragons from sticks, paper, and tape.  There are distinct breeds.  This one is named Yellow Star.  M. is a prankster.  She likes to warn you that there's a dragon behind you and laugh when you turn to look.  After being caught out on my first day, I returned the joke on her.  When she turned to look and realized that she'd been tricked, she shouted, "Flying whoopie cushions, you got me!"

    P. is so talented, nonverbal, and works alone in the back corner.  I hope for a moment of connection someday.  It's filling to be building relationships again.

    I'm also trying to learn Italian on one of those free apps.  This is day nine.  My new motto is:  If I learn it, I will go. 

    I can order you coffee or tea with milk and sugar, point out town buildings, take you shopping for a black sweater or a small backpack, and get through a meal of fish, chicken, or pasta at a restaurant.  I may be making K a little nuts as I comment on how tall he is, whether or not he's nice at any given moment, and remind him that we do not need tomatoes from the store.

    Spring is turning out to be very full!

    Spring spaces with fabrics dyed by Tina and Deb.

Not drowning but waving

    "The Alchemy of Home"

    In the 90's, warm for here.  Not complaining, but it is the focus these days.  Opening or closing doors/windows/curtains while watching for the moments when the temperatures inside and outside switch, moving fans, searching for food in the fridge that won't require the stove.  It was 109° for Mom down in Oregon the other day.  So, really, not complaining, just managing.

    And I really should avoid people while managing.  For all of our sakes.

    Went to a water aerobics class yesterday.  The shallow end was quite full, so I donned a floatation belt and lurked just where the pool bottom drops off.  I don't know what my face looked like, but clearly not ok.  The teacher kept asking me if I was all right?  An elderly woman crossed a quarter of the pool to encourage me to come closer to where I could touch the floor of the pool.

    I tried to remember to keep a cheery smile on my face, so as not to worry others.  All the while, remembering the line from Stevie Smith's poem...

        "...I was much too far out all my life   

        And not waving but drowning."

 

    "Roasted carrots with oregano and chili powder made for $1.25!"

    I love that Blue sends photos of his new cooking and shopping skills.

 

    "Empanada making party with our Chilean friend last night!"

 

    Making smaller pieces again, thinking of picture books.  Remembering one of my children's lit professers, Dr. O., who said that in the very best books, each page, each illustration, should be able to stand alone as its own story.  That's what I'm aiming for.

    

 

Considerations

"Moon Life"

    There were some days with family in Oregon this week.  So much storytelling happens when we're together.  My brother is great at the "gotcha" ones, just like Dad was.  There was a comforting happy comment from K, who said that if something ever happens to me, he'll need to spend more time with my sister, "I love watching the two of you, you're so much alike, and so funny together!"  We are a funny group.  At least we think so.

 

    I stitched myself into a starry corner with this piece, it seemed there were never going to be enough stars to fill the space I wanted covered.  I was seeing stars in the end.

 

"Sky Spells"

    There is no memory of where the textured cloth at the top came from.  It's silk, I think.  Is it considered seersucker?  I think the indigo was my doing.  So much is lost in (or out of) my head anymore.   

    I want to learn how to talk about making more, and need to, as I've just committed to doing it for a zoom hour next March.  My reaction to the request was the usual:  Flattered, sure that I didn't have anything worth sharing and couldn't possibly, panic, wondering how to graciously say "No, thank you", wishing that I could pull myself together to do such things... and on and on.  All of the usual well-practiced and repeated, fear-based things.

    The only thing that I did differently was to recognize that there is a middle place between yes and no, besides fear...  Maybe.  Possibly.

    My reply held questions, concerns, and a confession to never having done this before and not being sure how.  The response was warm and reassuring.  Realizing that I am tired of saying no out of fear, I wrote right back with a shaky "Yes."

    There is a notebook, once used for Moon's "Spanish 1, Ms. Perez, P-3" class, abandoned a few pages in, that now also has the word "Zoom" written on it.  It's where things that might be of interest to other stitchers are being written down as I work.  "Jude" and "The Circle Community" are a few of the first words.  

    Friends and therapist have reassured, "Just tell your stories..."

"In Her Dreams"

Crowns & crystals 💎

 

    Sometimes crystals are added after the painting the blind drawings.  They relax me in a different way than painting.  There's a sense of discovery, as the blurs of paint take shape.  Finding buried treasure.

    There have been lots of fairy tale thoughts and wondering what it is that draws me to them?

    So many blurry ideas, but focus and words are few right now.

rough & only draft

    I've been avoiding screens (& people, too), feeling they were adding to the stress.  When I'm anxious, worried, scared, overwhelmed... I tend to turn away from everything, and lean towards shutting down.  Self protection.  Looking for a shell to crawl into.  But pretending that I have one doesn't seem to be serving me.  So, I'm going to try to keep going out loud here, and drifting and reaching back into the worlds of others.  Here I go...

    Much of the days are spent stitching on the "Story" blanket.  I could be doing a neater job, taking time and care.  But, I'm not.  Seams of the two sides were eye-ball lined up- iffy at best.  Spilled tea on it, probably a little wine, too.  Just going.  If I stop to get it right, it may all screech to a halt.  So, I don't look back.

    Stitching in whatever direction it gets picked up in, whatever I feel like doing.  There are no rules other than going.  The needle is too long.  Moving the few safety pins that I could find to hold ("baste") the layers together as I go.  Managing only what is in my lap, not the big picture.

some nitty-gritties

    Framing.

    Labeling.

    Wrapping.

    It seems that things are getting done for the show on Saturday.  

    Some parts are fun - stamping titles, and wrapping notecard sets with old pattern paper.  Which brought back fond memories of watching Mom lay out the makings for a new dress on the dining room table, explaining what that black bias arrow was, and how tucking the pins through the pattern and fabric twice held it much more securely.

    Much of this process has been good.  I'm learning some things about myself.  The momentary panic attacks seem to have subsided.  Thinking through the details is right up my micro-manager alley.  And I've even done some hard things- including asking for help.  Twice!  Something that is very difficult, and rarely done over here, and both friends said, "Yes"!  One is coming with me a day early, and driving!  The other is stopping over here the night before, just to reassure me that everything's all ok- the plan, the display, the pricing, what I'm wearing... Me.

    Yup, it's all going to be ok.

Change of pace

    It has been a good, and unusually social week with lovely interesting people, and this introvert is on overload.  

    Stitching was even a struggle.  I managed to patch my jeans, badly.   

    A green sock was finished.  

    Sunday was wedding dress shopping with best woman friend (which proves how much I love her, because I didn't even do this for my own wedding).  Her criteria is- Not white, not slutty, and a little funky (she's hoping to make certain folks roll their eyes).  

    On the third trip out, I laid my hands on the two latest possibilities, saying, "One of these will be IT," because definitely none of the others had been.  Hallelujah, she looks good in both of them.  She just needs to choose, and then we'll start shopping for mine...sigh.

    A purple sock was started, because the green was just not doing it for me.  

    On Tuesday, K. very nicely offered to drive the five hours, to and from, to meet up with the women I'm having the art show/sale with in December.  Stressed about catching the ferry, and all of the unknowns of hosting a show, and tired out from teenager issues, and, and,...  When he made a wrong turn, I shouted at him, in near tears, "I am coming unglued!"

    He offered to bus home from the ferry and let me drive myself.  I apologized, and regrouped.  Eventually.

    Yesterday there was a little watercoloring.  Making these jewels is meditative and calming.

    There was also a haircut, long overdue inches and inches were cut off, in hopes of feeling a bit more presentable in the world.  We'll see.    

    Today, I so enjoyed Jude's latest entry in her Patchwork in Perspective class.  Her "skatchwork" technique was just the ticket to get things percolating again.  A very good brain and needle stretch.

    I also tried to figure out the best public transportation route to get to the airport on time tomorrow with the same friend.  After much thinking and rethinking, and sending her the plan, it became clear we should just meet there.  As I like to have plenty of time to spare, to avoid the stress from fear of missing a flight, and she will most likely come dashing in during the boarding.

    "Where will you be?" she asked.

        "Sitting at the gate, reading a book."

    "And stressing that I'm going to be late."

        "Probably."

    And, because this week hasn't been busy and odd enough for my hermit lifestyle...  

    Tomorrow morning I'm taking a bus to the light rail, to the airport, and then we're flying to Las Vegas for 24 hours.  The star is packed and coming along.  Things are wild and weird over here.

moody blues

    It's interesting that the moods of both this piece and myself completely switched places by the time it was finished.  I suppose it has very little to do with the cloth and thread.  Rather, it was what was happening when time wasn't being spent in stitch.  Maybe I should never put the needle down?  Or use it to stitch my mouth shut?  And eyes and ears closed...

first day

    Today there was a little knitting while waiting for my oatmeal and tea to cook, and then stitching on this piece I'm calling "Playground" for now.  Later there was more stitching, followed by the dismantling of a very large falling apart contraption that has been living in the basement for several years.  It took half an hour to separate the garbage from the recycling- made of cardboard boxes, toilet paper tubes, tin foil, legos, etc. and lots of duct tape... a long abandoned creation by Moon.  The goal is to take at least one thing out of this house a day.

    There was more stitching.  Lunch happened, along with laps in the Y pool and a little grocery shopping.

    Next came more stitching, rows and rows and rows of dots (Jude's invisible baste, and that's one of her moons, too.), which make me so happy.

    No school, no commitments, other than to myself.  It was a very good first not-back-to-school day.

    Time to make dinner, and then some more stitching to do, while the light holds.  

a quick "postcard"

    Hi, 

    The painting workshop, taught by Katie Kendrick, a lovely talented generous spirit, was full of many experiences both good and challenging.  I'm still processing it all.  There were also unexpected logistical issues (having nothing to do with the workshop) of a wide variety that threw me for some loops, but were opportunities to learn more about myself (more good and challenging).

    There are several works in progress from the different exercises.  The one above is from day one- made with photos of a moth, one of Moon's birthday cakes, and that mouth I stitched collaged with acrylic paints.  Funny, I had arrived that day with the intent of holding a happy lightness in my painting...Isn't it interesting how we can't get away from ourselves?  I promise to share more photos and reflections when I feel more coherent.

    Wishing you all a happy ease into autumn,.

    Oxo,  Hazel

    P.S.  I'm really missing keeping up with the circle of this community, and stitching, the first stitches in days happened this morning, all seventeen of them.  So many things going on expected and not.  Settling into school schedules, people we care about dealing with hard things, fall baseball, etc...  Things might continue being a little irregular here for a piece of time.  Trying to get my ducks in a row as quickly as possible.  Quack.