handstories

abundance

   Another step out of the blue box with purple.  Thoughts of Grandma Blanche and her purple trimmed trailer (more about Blanche here).  The mornings feel lavender lately- the early summer light, catching glimpses of the new bevy of bunnies that have moved into the neighborhood, jays in the dewy grass, and the bird songs...  The old windows in my studio (I'm not tired of saying that yet!) look out to the greenbelt behind our house, where the calls and chirpings fill the air.

    The days are full... lots of stitching (I keep starting new things...hoping to actually finish some this week), a bit of housekeeping (the tub was scrubbed), more cooking than usual, note writing (things to do, words to remember and sketches of moons and bursting stars).  The nights are full, too, of deep sleeping and long barely remembered dreams.  

    I may need to create a category for "rambling..."

red ramble

    In an effort to stretch...red.

    Red makes me think of Mom, and the importance of kindness.  Always one for bright colors, it was her favorite during the 70's.  There was a night when all of us kids and Dad were sitting in the living room...  Mom came in wearing a big smile and striking a "Ta-da!" pose to show off her new glowing blonde permed hairstyle and a bright red polyester jumpsuit.  We all burst out laughing.  She burst into tears and ran back into her bedroom.  

    We tried to take it back, but it was too late.  The jumpsuit was returned, and she grew out the tight curls and cut them off as soon as possible, while the rest of us learned a lesson about being more thoughtful and kind. 

    Thinking about kindness with a wander through the dictionary... "benevolence, indulgent, considerate, helpful, gentle, a desire to do good to others..." 

    (An unexpected and kind gift from a friend this week) 

        "This is an unkindness of time," is a thought that has been in my mind for the last few months.  At the same time, there's been a lot of growth, too- in self-awareness and self-care (or at least in the realization for the need of it).

    In this new space of life, some things have relaxed, mostly on the inside.  I find myself doing odd little things around the house...even dusting(!), and feeling the gift of this time.  And I'm reaching towards more kindness.  There have been attempts at small new ways of approaching things, how I talk to others, and myself.  Which means going against my go-to mind set of believing that every wrong in the world needs urgent emergency care.  Some efforts have been surprisingly successful, many awkward, and a few have back-fired... it's a learning curve.

    I am a lucky bear.

holding memory

    Yesterday I found these two lead fishing weights from Dad. 

    It was last August, during a last minute detour to visit him, that I asked for them, thinking they might be good to use when setting hand spun yarn.  (Getting back to spinning is on that list, too.)

    He was in good spirits, gesturing to the empties on the table next to the pile of bills and checkbook, saying how a couple of beers calmed "the shakes" enough to write the checks out.  ("The shakes" is what he called his severe hand tremors.  I could never get a more accurate diagnosis from him.  During his last few years, it was so bad that I sometimes wanted to reach over and grab his fingers tightly just to still them for a moment.  It was something both he and his mom suffered from in their later years, and something I worry about with occasional trembles.)  

    Overall, he seemed in a little better shape than the last time we'd seen him.  Still, when we were driving away, I started to cry, the guys asked why?

    "This could be the last time we see him."  It was.

    I remember sitting on the floor as he melted the lead in a coffee can over a small camp stove on the floor of our cellar-like basement, watching him slowly and carefully pour the silvery molten liquid into the different sized molds, and then waiting for their transformation into a solid again.

    I'm so glad I thought to ask him.  It was a small, but nice exchange.  He was happy I wanted something from him, I was glad to have something he made, that I remember watching him do, and that it made him happy.  Still am.

day one

    Yesterday was my last day at school.  Transitions always find me kind of lost, wandering through rooms wondering what to do with myself.  

    There was a little stitching with these squares (Five of them are scraps from Jude, including the sweet purple moon, and Deb's thread is holding them together.)

    There is a "Want To-Do" list that has been growing over the last months, with things such as being more active in this community again, organizing my studio, reread some Willa Cather, learn more about cyanometers, and how to make apple strudel... 

    There was putzing and haphazard painting.

    And this little pile of tiny scraps was found together.  I think they have a story to tell...

    Moon came home from school and asked the nicest thing, "How was the first day of your future?"  

riding waves

    All kinds.

    Trying to go with the flow more, through days that sometimes feel more like wrestling matches.

    This one is about trusting.

changing it up

    These two, one of Jude's moons and a mountain shaped scrap, were at the top of the pile.  Red is not a usual go-to, but I wanted to see if something could come of them.  Deb's thread helped.

    Thinking about what I have, how to work with that, how to think about things and approach them differently... in cloth, too.
        A story about transition, as I head into the last week of my school job.

neighbor days

    The neighborhood has had plenty of stories this week.  

    We attended the memorial service for Mr. C, he was 96.  Mrs. C. is 96 too, in great shape, still gardening and a pillar of her church community.  She looked beautiful in her black sequined hat at the service.  (She has an amazing collection of "Going to Church" hats.)

    They built their house in 1956, and have always kept it up impeccably.  We've lived next door to them for the last 27 years.  He mowed the grass and cleaned the roof himself until the last couple of years.  I would watch him up on that ladder with fear and awe.  A quiet man, always cordial, knocking on the door now and then in summer to hand us zucchini and tomatoes from his garden.  He'll be missed.

    Our youngest neighbor across the street (9?) is a musician, and has had a guitar or drumsticks in his hands as long as I can remember (I can hear him playing right now).  His School of Rock concert was at the Hard Rock Cafe downtown yesterday.  They passed out much needed earplugs on the way in.  Someday we'll be able to say we knew him when.

    And then there was the trip to visit with old neighbors...  K. and I drove up for a day to have lunch with my Iowa friend, who used to live a few blocks away, but has retired up on the peninsula.  

    We also saw our old next-door neighbors (on the other side), who moved there a couple of years ago, too.  We miss them so much.  Just swell people, both artists, with two sweet boys.  He's a painter, and a house builder by day.  Tininha, is now weaving beautiful passionate textural creations. 

    While there, we met their lovely friend, Tracy, also an artist, who weaves, stitches, works on paper...the list goes on.  It was so nice to sit and share about making.  The big news is that we've started plans to have a show together later this year.  Excitement and nerves abound, but the two of them are full of grace and know-how, so it should be swell.

    There are so many un-knowns right now.  Focus and stitching are all over the place these days.  Nothing's quite done, waiting for more story to come...  And I keep thinking of something Jude said to me years ago, "...and it all formed as it might."

moon over moon

    I love this knothole, it can even wiggle within its space a little.

    The silky moon, and much of the blue framing the view, came from the basket of Jude cloths... more things to be grateful for.

    It was a lovely afternoon stitching at my table with the window above wide open to the trees out back.  Two crows were gathering for a nest, woodpecker, jay and chickadees were spotted (and listened to), there was a rabbit in the yard for the first time, and now and then a soft breeze carried in the sweetness of the neighbor's wisteria...

what's new...

    New stories in the shop... Take a gander here.

    Many thanks to Deb Lacativa, Tina, and Jude for their talents and sharing of cloth and thread.  

"a room of one's own"

    There's still lots to sort and organize, but there is room, and it's a blue room...

    The beautiful big table that's been in the basement waiting for this room, doesn't need clearing off before using, nor picked up before dinner.  Things are where they were left.  There isn't a door, but I've asked folks to knock.

    The afternoon light is lovely.

    K. stands in the doorway saying things like, "It looks good on you."   

    P.S.  Shop update coming on Saturday...