handstories

No rhythm, but still...

    Flow and time are sporadic and come in patches.  I feel like a crazy quilt.

    But there was a trip to M's house across the water.  Leaving the city and all of the things behind for a day.

    Soon it felt like another world.

    (Except for one moment...  There are signs everywhere stating that masks are required inside the ferry, you may be outside on deck or in your car without one.  Also, multiple announcements are made stating this, and that masks are available if needed.  The man sitting across from me did not have one on.  We moved to another part of the boat.  A while later the man was walking throughout the ferry, still without a mask.  We watched him pass one of the pursers, who was walking towards us. 

    Yes, I am a rule follower.  Yes, I think everyone else should be too.  Yes, I am a bit high strung these days, with things feeling somewhat out of control.  Yes, I may have been desperate to control something, anything.  Yes, I called out to the man, "You need a mask!"  Yes, I was ignored.  Yes, I called out to the purser who was sauntering by, doing nothing about the unmasked violator, "That man needs a mask!"  His eyes smiled, seemingly thinking I was just admiring his epaulettes.  I waved him over, "Excuse me!  That man isn't wearing a mask."  He then patronizingly began to explain to me that there was nothing he could do, other than offering a mask and a reminder of the requirement.  "Well, did you?"  I was met with a questioning confused look.  "Did you offer him a mask and a reminder of the rule?"  Silence.  "Do you have a mask to offer him?"  (I probably should add exclamation points to my last three statements to convey the tone I was using.)

    "Uh, yes, I can go find one..." and he quickly scurried away.

    "Sorry if that was too much," I said to M.

    "Nope.  It was just you being you.  Let's go down to the car."

    The rest of the day was wonderful.

    She gardened.  My height and long arms came in handy for dead heading the sunflowers threatening with their weight to break the stalk before the rest could finish blooming.

    Inspired by beautiful gifts (Deb, Jude, Tina), I stitched for the first time in days.

    It felt so good to notice beauty everywhere.

    We wandered through a flea market.  So many pretties and memories.  We found sets of our childhood dishes sitting right beside each other in one display.  A very good day.

    Autumn has arrived.  Bright glowing days and crisp air.  There are things to look forward to soon.

"Imagining Beyond"

In Seattle & thereabouts

    There are days when you just need soothing.  Stitching this silky moon from Jude was just that.  Like stitching water.  It grew into the tenth moon cabin block.

    Favorite fabrics, some took a while to find.  Somebody really needs to get some ducks in a row over here.  That pink cloth looks like it might be too much, but I'm hoping it will be balanced out once it's surrounded by other blocks.  Or it can come out later.

    A visit to the Bainbridge Art Museum...

    Upstairs, in the Sherry Grover Artists' Books room, there is an exhibit going on... "Every Day & Special Days".

    What a happy honor to be a part of it!

    And to share a space with so many wonderful works, including dear Velma.

    There has been some searching for my best Self .  She seems to be M.I.A. a lot lately.  It seems Moon and I are working hard to create many memories that we will hopefully laugh about some day.

    Also on Bainbridge Island is the beautiful Bloedel Reserve.

    Most of the photos I took were of water.

    I just love this willow.  It holds the memory of another willow, that held a memory of another willow for my mom.  All of the willows held/hold happy moments.

    The day ended with a beautiful ferry ride.

    Wishing you the bluest skies.

Watching

    The ninth moon cabin block.  The green cloth was bought on the day Moon was born, with pauses to lean on fabric bolts during contractions.  (They had been going on for days, so I wasn't worried, but my friend was!)

     Working with bigger pieces of cloth has a soothing calming effect.  Last night there was a really long seam to fix on one side of a sheet.  I went to bed relaxed.

    I lost my wallet.  Again.  Second time in two years.  I don't know how or where.  Between home, ferry rides and M's house.  I'm almost positive it was in my bag, didn't use it, but it's gone.  Maybe it's here in the house still.  I don't know.  I've cleaned, called, retraced, even looked in gutters and grass where K dropped me off for the ferry.  Just gone.  I loved that wallet.  Glittery.  $10.00 at the Goodwill.  Perfect.  Sigh.

    Pinks and corals have moved into my work lately.  

    There was a conversation this week.  The other person didn't get it.  I didn't get that they didn't get it.  They felt exactly the same way about me.  It was like a deeply scratched record, sliding back and repeating, over and over.  Finally, I just had to let go, skip over the injury, and move forward, and appreciate what music I could hear, but I feel scraped and worn thin.

    This piece helped.  Chaos and rhythm together. "In Cacophony & Love, They Flew On".  It's just how things feel.  All of the stitches had to do with connecting, one piece of cloth to another or a continuing of one into another- birds bodies completed (it's interesting how a few stitches suggest a bird shape to the eye), flight patterns combined with moon rings, polka-dots scattering beyond, Deb's dyed speckles floating further.  Except the stars, those are for me. 

    (Many threads and that bottom strip from Deb with a ThreadCrumbs moon.  It will be in the shop with a few other pieces and a handful of tokens on Friday, 9am.)

    Thankfully, Twinkle keeps watch.

Biding

    "Their stories were as old as the stars"  These hills seem like very good friends to me.

    Odds and ends days...

    After days and days, taxes are done.  K does them.  I tiptoe around in denial and guilt and try to answer occasional questions.  Until he hands me my part to do (for the shop), and then I whine and tell myself that I'll do a better job of tracking things this year (again).

    Moon busies himself with school and music.  He's taught himself the guitar, ukulele and is currently making sweet (sometimes quite high-pitched) sounds with the tin whistle.  He's also often practicing and/or recording songs for the high school spring musical that will be online.  I love hearing him sing.  His gifts are definitely not from my side. 

    A moody ninth block for the moon cabin stack.  Spiraling out counter-clockwise...  A moon from Jude, Deb's dyeing, friend's scrap, starry gift from K when I was pregnant with Blue, unknown, Maiwa polka-dots (I miss the annual visit to their $5.00 a bag scrap bin), two dyed by a woman somewhere in Washington- bought at quilt show market years ago (wish I could remember her name), and a leftover print from my William Morris phase in the 90's.

    As for me, it's cloth and thread, with a little painting, with a little housekeeping and dinner cooking thrown in.  

    A gathering.  I wonder if they're six feet apart?

Yesterday & today, inside & out

    Moon by Jude.