handstories

The Coast

    Stitched last week on the Oregon Coast with my mom and sister (who I usually join on the east coast).

    We had perfect weather, wonderful views, lots of walks, memories, laughs, and food.

    The house was on the beach, a dream place for all three of us.

    It was the first time in decades that it was just the three of us for any length of time.  Fascinating to observe and be a part of new dynamics.

    It seems that the neighborhood heard that I was coming.

    There was a night that boats scattered near the shore (and an egret, I think).  We made up all kinds of stories of what they might be up to before deciding they were fishing boats.  (The stories were much more interesting.)

    One day we drove up to the Tillamook Cheese Factory.  Growing up, the family would stop there now and then.  We enjoyed watching the cheese makers pulling giant wires through the cheese, seeing the curds and whey, all through a large window over their work area.  Afterwards, there would be sample cheese squares on toothpicks.

    Now it is a huge building with large windows, displays, etc. looking down through rows of windows onto modern machines that hide much of the process.  There were sealed samples to take, a LARGE eating area featuring cheese sandwiches and many kinds of ice cream, with a huge gift shop nearby, and a cheese truck to pose for a photo op in.  A kind of a cheese Disneyland.  It was interesting and a fun stop, but the quaintness and charm were missing.

    I did love seeing that one of their symbols is the silhouette of the Morning Star.

    "1854-  Tillamook's farmers had butter and milk to sell- but hauling it over rough mountain roads took so long, that it would spoil.  The fastest route to Portland is by water, so they built Oregon's first official ship- the Morning Star- to carry their dairy goods to market."

    Home now to a short heat wave, but there's hopefully a storm brewing tonight.

    But I keep thinking of the ocean.

    And thinking about all of the different kinds of light.

Seeing the waves...

    More seas...  I'm resting in them, I think.  A way of keeping going, no matter the to-do list, anxieties.  Things are fine, just still more of a tossed salad rather than a smooth soup.  K started back half-time today, that will help both of us.  Stir crazy does not look good on him.  Nor does my constant, "Are you leaving the house sometime soon?"  We both need routine.

    It's our 39th anniversary today.  We're both glad about that.

    There were four years of off and on before we got married.  There was a time during my senior year of high school when he would come home from college every other weekend.  During which he would break up or get back together with me, depending on what he had done the last time.  Over and over.  Two girlfriends wrote to him, asking him to end it for good, because being around me during the aftermath of these visits was making them crazy.

    We all made it through that year, and then I went to Alaska for the summer, and new drama began...  but that's another story.

    Sorry about all of the loose threads on this photo.  Didn't have my glasses on.  

Seas & Season

"From the Deep"

"Twilight Sea"

"Song of Sea & Sky"

    A sea stitching did happen, with thanks to ThreadCrumbs, Deb, and Tina for sharing their dyeing expertise in the moon, threads, and cloth.  It was nice to do a series, exploring a few wave ideas, and peacefully stitch thoughts of the ocean.  They happened after Moon was delivered to college and K went to visit family for a few days.

    Alone for the first time in a month!  It was swell.  I did miss him in the evenings, but the days... I got so much done, including fall cleaning (which is when I get the urge, rather than spring).  The timer was set for 45 minutes of stitching, then 15 for cleaning.  It worked wonders.  The kitchen counter was completely cleared, weeded, and rearranged.   The flour and sugar canisters are now at the other end of the kitchen, shocking but true.  Isn't it funny how things get set up and rarely change?  The bathroom was scrubbed, boxes were emptied, the studio room floor was found under piles, boxes, baskets, and books that were put away.  A carload went to donations, and a few bags of art supplies were taken to the local elementary school.  K says that he should go away more often.  I said, no, just back to work.  (Both of our fingers are crossed that it will be next week.)

"Spell Gathering"

    This piece and I went round and round.  It was ripped apart twice before we came to an understanding.  I wasn't listening.

    Yesterday was the first day cool enough for wool socks.  I love autumn.

More turquoise, & tea

    First fresh indigo experiment using the salt method.  Two leaves, some salt, and a scrap of cotton (it already had some iron or walnut smudges on it) and of silk.  Enjoyed the process and results very much, thanks again, Deb!

    Played with one in my dream that night.  Something I always wanted as a kid (along with Colorforms), but never got.

    While working on the turquoise patchwork from the last post, I thought about hot pink and orange.  The next day a friend handed me this beautiful silk scarf that had accidently been chewed up by her washing machine.

    It was just the right thing.

    The green side of turquoise with shimmering velvet.  Her name is "Opal".

    Someone shared the story of when their husband first said, "I love you."  A very romantic mountain top moonlit moment.  Which triggered my own memories... I said it first to K.  Sixteen, New Year's Eve, got up my gumption and blurted out, "I realize that I love you!" 

    His reply, "That's great!"  (Heart swelled with hope.)  "I realized that I love L.!"  (Deflation of heart.)  "Isn't this great, all of this love going on!"

    No.  No, it was not great, but I put on a cheery face, bided my time (knowing that L. was not interested in him), and got my declaration four months later.  Boys.

 

    Speaking of boys.  Moon has been home a week.  He is so in love with math.  There are pieces of paper like the above scattered throughout the house, representing his attempts at sharing this passion with us.  It may as well be written in ancient Greek.  He doesn't understand that we don't understand, so we nod and smile with awe.

    It's been good to spending time with Moon, having long conversations, hearing what he's thinking about (besides math), and it's been really useful too. 

    K. has been struggling with arthritis in his hip, and the fall last January pushed it all downhill.  Replacement surgery is scheduled (The first available appointment was in November!).  The steep long staircase to the bedroom is too much for now, especially since the only bathroom is on the main floor.  I did offer to move out of my studio room, but thankfully his reply was, "There is so much wrong with that idea."  So, there's been a mattress and box spring in the living room for the last month or so.  Moon helped to move the heavy furniture into a better arrangement.  At least now the bed isn't the first thing you see when you walk in the door.

"Here in the Turquoise Sea"

    Yesterday's turquoises.  The silk waves on top of the boat were the same as the brighter back wave until they were dropped into the morning tea. 

    Stitched while singing an old family favorite from when the boys were young.  Have a listen here, I'll bet you'll be humming too...

    "...They play on the beaches the colour of peaches, there by the turquoise sea, oh, my...under a blue, blue sky..."

Hoping

"Holding Hope"

Friends & playing

"Cara"

        A few trees have sprung up this week, brought to life with Deb's rainbowed scraps and threads.  I do love the surprise of each of them, the not knowing who they are until they're finished.  Once done, I hold them and see what feeling or word comes to mind.  In Cara's case, it was the connection between the tree and star.  There seems to be a conversation, an understanding, a connection... which led to thoughts of friendship.  "Cara" means friend in many languages- Irish, Spanish, Latin...

"Yawen" and "Linnea"

    "Yawen" is a Chinese name meaning cloud patterns.  Do you see the faint cloud line that I followed in blue stitches?  "Linnea" is where I landed after a search for pink names.  It's Scandinavian for a small pink mountain flower.

    I wonder who will show up here?

    A blue moon playground by Tina.   I wasn't sure about my ability to stick with and pull off a tidy stretch of Jude's stacked stitches, but ended up enjoying the process, and could see that I improved as I went along.  Practice, practice, practice really does work.

    Twinkle is so glad that I'm home, but not happy that I'm spending time at my table, rather than on the couch with her.  She tried to balance and make do on my lap, but not for long.

    There was a beautiful glittering silvery dream last night- a boat ride near waterfalls and a new version of Portugal.

    

    And more waves for Barbara....

Swell

    Cape Cod was lovely.  Hours and hours, and days and days, spent doing very little.

    We stayed in a cabin on a small island, accessible by a one lane road with a small wooden bridge.  Comings and goings had to coordinate with high tide, which would cover the road in a few feet of water.  There was a miscalculation on the first day and we had three unexpected hours on the mainland side.  That didn't happen again!

    So many beautiful beaches.

    Way too many photos of waves were taken, trying to capture the lines, rolls and feel.

    There were a couple of days spent on one beach, whole days of staring at the sea.

    Seals played close to shore (the blurry black spot in the center).

    I feel rested.

    An unexpected lodging option discovered on one of our many beach walks.

    Just before this sunset, this is the spot where I took a dip in the ocean, head under the water and everything.  I can still taste how salty it was.

    (In real life, there was a swimsuit!)

    The bit of stitching that happened on the trip was finished up yesterday.

Gathering light

"How it Would Be"

    A thin moon layer of Heike's dyed silk allows Deb's wonder cloth to shine through.

"Unexpected Rainbows"

    Bigger than usual, 9" x 7".  More of Deb's cloth sailing in the breeze.

    My favorite spot.

    Life is in a tunnel right now, but there are a couple of lights twinkling at the end of it. 

    Spectrums.

    I have the hardest time photographing paintings.  The light is rarely right.

    Two friends, by two favorite artists.  "Story" made by Cathy Cullis many years ago (resting in a bluebird tea cup that matches one belonging to a dear friend.  She gave it to me so that we could imagine having tea together anytime), and a painting by Amanda Blake, "She Kept Herself Safe".  It was a rare spontaneous instantaneous purchase a few years ago.  I named her "Lucinda," and just looked up the meaning- light, of course.  They are across the table directly in front of me as I stitch.  Keeping company and an eye on things.  There are a few more friends here, but these two are giving me meaningful looks today

    The teacup friend texted today, "Are you ok?" 

        "Nope.  But trying to be."

"Gathering Light"

   Or "Audrey the Third" if you're Dee (ha, inside joke).  A Threadcrumb moon, deep purple wave by Tina and the sky, and reverse-side patch in the bottom corner, are a Maiwa cloth.

    Not a lot of stitching over the last days.  A little mending and plenty of wondering about all kinds of things, with some anxieties added into the mix.

    I started digging through the studio shelves.  Filled three bags- garbage, recycling and donations.  A small dent.

    Found a few piles of quilt starts, including some that I have no memory of.  Wondering if I can just close my eyes and stitch the odds and ends together?  Make them into blankets of some sort?  Useful, if nothing else.

    One very long night with a mosquito circling around my head.  Even under the quilt I could hear its whining.  There wasn't much sleep the next night either.  In fact, I was having a really good dream, movie star included.  Just as it was about to get good, I told him I was too tired, that I couldn't keep my eyes open, and fell asleep in dreamland, only to wake up in real life even more exhausted.  Drat.

 

    Looking for something to do, that would require no thoughts, I pulled out the spinning wheel.  So much dust.  Honestly, why I forget how much I love to spin, I don't know.

    The glow of yellow skies from the wild fires came back for a couple of days.  We're lucky that the air quality has stayed good.

    Last night there were two brief rain showers.  I ran outside to stand in it.  Hoping for real rain on Friday.

    Today- wave work.  Not how I usually go about starting a piece.  Rarely plan so much out at the beginning.  It's also a little bigger (9x6") than the usual 4" squares.  Not sure where it's going from here...

Sailing, cinnamon rolls & moon dreaming

"She Journeyed On"

    When I found this tiny ship in a bottle on my basement shelves in the school I was leaving after 23 years... I didn't think twice about keeping it.  Whoever it belonged to before, clearly the universe meant it for me.  It was time to set sail... 

    I wonder if I'll ever stitch such a grand ship (or be able to?)

    How many candles can you fit on a cinnamon roll?

    Nineteen.

    For Moon.  

    We were glad for the decision to only put the candles on one roll!

    I'm the only one in the house who still asks for a cake.

    The tiniest of scraps can make a world.

    There was a fall on the front porch two days ago- stepping down the front porch stairs with arms full of damp laundry to put out on the drying racks, turning around to reclose the door that hadn't quite latched, tripping over the now trailing bedsheet in shoes that were too loosely tied...

    Falling so slowly that there was time to wonder if I could catch myself, or would I go off the edge of the porch taking the window boxes with me, or maybe (as the stumble picked up speed and turned into a tumble) go through the screen door, and most importantly a quick prayer to the sky that no one was coming up or down the sidewalk and that none of the neighbors were looking out of their windows. 

    All the while fumbling to get my hands untangled from the laundry to stop the plummeting off of the porch.  One hand got free in time to grab the screen and push it into the watering can, jar, etc. that later needed retrieved out of the ferns below.  I landed in a full out sprawl-splat, knocking the flower boxes a few inches over the edge, but not off.  Banged and bruised, but grateful that there was only the cat as a witness.  Still quite sore, but the bruises are getting pretty.  Just don't bounce like I used to.

    Friends are sailing out on the ocean, with experienced friends to help them on their first sea trip.  Hoping they're gaining confidence, and that I'll be able to have a turn soon....  They left Portland on Friday and will reach Point Roberts (the tiny tip of the U.S. that's attached to Canada) by Tuesday.  With the help of a find-my-friend feature on the phone, I'm able to see about where they are, and was excited and envious while watching them cross the bar from the Columbia River onto the Pacific.  It's such a beautiful powerful spot where the river meets the sea.

    Dreaming of a moonlit sail...

"Moon Dreams in Blue"