handstories

Reshaping

(There are all kinds of wonky things going on with photos, comments, and spacing right now.  Crossing my fingers that I found a workaround with this post...)

    

    "Holding Memories"

    Yesterday I was thinking about how my stitching is about creating possibilities.  That stories can come together to make new places.  

    Recently, when asked if they liked me, I was told that I'm "a mixed bag".  My first reaction was sad and hurt.  Then came the thoughts, "Who says that?!" and finally, "Well, who isn't?"  Realizing that every experience is a learning adventure, I decided to be grateful to know more... about others and myself.

    "Mystique" Tree Token

    I think my stitching is about believing in the possibilities of and for stories.

    "Time, love, and work.  That's all you have.  And, hopefully, a few trips to Italy."- Maira Kalman

    Maira Kalman is a favorite soul of mine.  There were hours of listening to (gobbling up) old podcast interviews with her this week (again).  She's funny, charming, wise, and so talented.  I found out that someone I know knows someone who knows her.  Even though I will most likely never meet her, just the idea that she's only a few degrees of separation away makes me giddy.

    Nights have taken on a strange pattern.  Waking around 4 am from intense dreams (a sky full of pink moons, starlit gardens, terrifying shadowy corners...), and then drifting off again around 5 am for an hour or two more of dead to the world sleep.  The morning paintings have become reflections.

    Also, I've started playing in this "seeded notebook" made a while back.

    Really, life can be rearranged and reconnected in so many ways.

New toys and thoughts

    There have been a lot of comings and goings, but finally back home.

    The workshop was good.  Christine is wonderful and generous with sharing her wealth of know-how, inspiration, materials, and ideas.  There was lots of playing, especially with trying out printing ideas.  Aiming for a new layer on the cloth, I experimented with this clever little press, gelli plate printing, indigo, and cyanotype.

    I really enjoyed exploring this liquid cyanotype process.  An area is painted with the mixture and then exposed to sunlight.

    There were experiments with overlapping layers, wet and dry fabric, and using various objects to create shapes.

    And then collaging things together...

    There are still some questions and ideas to try, and I'm looking forward to diving further.

Crux

    Walnut ink painted onto cloths dyed with fresh indigo and in that turquoise wash.

 

 

    A moment from yesterday. Rainbow in my blue room (on a wall that could use repainting, just like the rest of the house), Story quilt, and the bedpost of the childhood bed. I should say childhoods...Moon’s, Blue’s, nephews, brother’s, mine, and Dad‘s in the foster home that he grew up in. 

    I’ve been thinking about the soul this week, what it is, how to stay in the space of it.  I was told that it’s a place of who we are, all we are, all we might be.  That all the things that we think and believe about ourselves are just thoughts, reactions, responses, and often judgements. So, I’m spending moments trying to step outside of thinking, and observe the What and Why.

    During the first attempt, I remembered watching Dad at his mom's wake as he struggled to grasp timelines and his past.  Suddenly, I could see the small boy of who he had been, who didn't know what had happened to his world or where his parents had gone.  It was the first true understanding of the why he was the way he was, and the beginning of feeling some compassion and forgiveness for him.

 

 

    I’m also trying to understand walnut ink.  It was dried, ironed, wetted, and then smooshed with a couple of indigo leaves and salt.

 

    What a beautiful green it was.

 

    After drying and rinsing, the rings were barely visible.

 

    And begin again.  I don't know anything about this ink.  It is from a workshop a few years ago.  Maybe I need to make my own?  Either I will figure this out or just keep the ink away from water.

    A Table Story...  Years ago, at a craft fair, M., a friend, bought the bear necklace.  I loved it too, but there was only one.  Recently, M. gave it to me.  She lives on my worktable.  Her occasional adventures are photographed and texted to M.  Yesterday she and the "Story" doll (made by Cathy Cullis years ago) celebrated the finishing of this piece under a sunny scrap of Deb's cloth with party favors of a jay feather and a piece of a tumbleweed from a road trip with M.

    It's funny how elements of stories that have been looked at over and over can suddenly take on new meanings.  That memory of Dad, after all of these years, seems to have opened a door to some understanding and compassion for me too.

"Soul Work"

    I'm keeping this one.

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"

Tools for Light

    The table today...  One of Jude's moons, with some of Deb's indigo silk, a rainbow of threads from Tina, works in progress, and all of my scissors.  They are each good at different things.  The black forged pair are able to rip through cloth with a tug, creating rough edges.  Long straight sharp cutting is done by the big heavy shears.  Only a blue speckled ring show of the small embroidery scissors, probably the most used because of their size, comfort and ability to cleanly cut small shapes.  Finally, the snips that are poking out on the right that are good for quick thread cutting and travel.  Good tools make me really happy.

    The dreams have calmed down some, still busy, but without much anxiety.

    Wasn't this morning great?  To not have that holding breath feeling that has especially hung over the last weeks.  To see and hear hope and joy- on faces, in words, songs, and the amazing beautiful poet and poem...

"...For there is always light, if only we're brave enough to see it.

    If only we're brave enough to be it."

-from "The Hill We Climb" by Amanda Gorman, National Youth Poet Laureate

Time in cloth & thoughts

    Beginning with one of Jude's moons, this cloth exploded into being... "Cosmic Crossroads".

    The morning paintings are looking more and more like cloth to me.  There are a few ideas about following this thread.  So many ideas, and even with all of the time in today's world, it still doesn't seem enough.

    Moon and I are home alone for a few days.  Still, with most of his day spent at school in his room, other than meals, I hardly see him.  I'm grateful for the moments of connection when he pops downstairs to share something of interest now and then.

    School is going so much better for him (and us!) than last spring.  There is no blame in that statement.  No one was prepared for what happened and everyone did the best they could, but really, for the most part it was a wash.  This year there are expectations and accountability- class, small group and one on one meetings with teachers and other students. 

    Moon even loves most of his classes- especially theater (we're looking forward to the upcoming online productions they're creating), physics and math.  I've listened to his recently written one-act (death, chess and existentialism), tried to understand the existence of ten dimensions (I got lost in the sixth), and the other night, when he came down distressed, feeling that he and his peers are losing this last year of childhood because of the virus, listened, and tried to offer hope, as he hoped that his passion for math and physics lasts, and that "someday, if I'm lucky, I'll figure out a way for kids not to be afraid of time like I am."  His deep thinking has always amazed me.    (P.S.  My time has been spent with thread (with no idea of which dimension I'm in).  These tokens, "Cosmic Crossroads" and other story cloths will be in the shop tomorrow (Friday, October 14th, 9am PST).  Thank you for taking a look!)

Can I hear me now?

 

    There was probably more time spent on the phone this week than in the last six months put together.  Several calls with friends and family.  Mostly ok to good.  Verbal skills are definitely going downhill with all of this isolation.

    The words that were exchanged are blurred together, much of the information forgotten, only the gist of feelings exchanged remain.  Details that used to matter so much now slip like silk.

    I feel like myself with cloth, and safe.  Possibilities fill the spaces of not knowing, instead of anxiety and imagined incriminations.  When it doesn't work, it's ok.  There's a knowing that things can change, be layered on, or be chalked up to being an experiment or experience, not a waste.  It's all time with cloth.

    It's swell to be in this relationship with cloth.  I'm still work at getting to this kind of kindredness and kindness with myself.

    I am getting better at listening.

Trees & daydreams

    Tina's beautiful dyeing makes a great stormy twilight sky.

    This gave me an idea last night.

    Sometimes every day seems exactly the same, not in a bad way necessarily, but you never know what might change.  Even the smallest thing can matter.

    There are new story cloths in the shop today- lots of trees and daydreams.  

September!

    I was BUSY all day yesterday.  Checking things off of the to-do list, adding to it, and checking those things off, too.  There was preparation for a shop update today- photos, listings, retaking photos (because the light is SO bright these days), etc.  Things got DONE.

    Laundry, birthday card into the mail, a dinner made out of the hardly anything that was left in the fridge, and I finished this little piece (about 2 1/2 inches square).  "A Piece of Peace" made from lovely scraps that Tracy sent- the leftover bits from her beautiful robes. (Do go see them and her wonderful thoughtful place over here.). I'm looking forward to seeing her robes, and her again, if and when this pandemic is over.

    The last thing on my list was to make a new book using these tutorials again.  Isn't the cover paper gorgeous?  It was eco-printed by Catherine Alice- the moon came from an avocado slice and hollyhocks made the blues.  She was one of the curators and exhibitors of the "All Stitched Up" show that I was in last fall.  (Was that only a year ago?) and has since become a good friend (with a little matchmaking by Velma, I think, and possibly a bit of stalking by me.)

    The book is a mix of good papers, scraps, old watercolors, magazines pages... anything that called out from the collage box.  The very first book that I made with the tutorial was similar to this and became one of my favorite things over the last months.  (I'll share it in another post.)

    The last stitch in the binding was made at the stroke of midnight.  It seemed important to have a fresh new place for this new season.  I Love Fall.  It's going to be a strange one.  At this moment Moon is upstairs rearranging his bedroom so that we can make space for a desk for his virtual schooling.  In spite of this, in spite of everything, I'm so very glad that this time of year is still working its magic.

balancing things

    Yesterday brought news for us, not unexpected, but still, it has tilted things.

    At the same moment a beautiful email came, from a soul who does such good in the world, creating space for healing.  It was a reminder that in the big view of things we are ok.

    The rest of the day was spent stitching, finishing up pieces, thinking about the many possibilities for how things might go. 

    There was a new start, too, and a recognition of that moment at the very beginning of a cloth, when I don't know what will happen, and of how much I love the wide openness of that.

      Gratefulness for Jude's moons, star and scraps, Deb's cloths and threads, Tina's cloth, and so much for the centering circle of this community, oxo.