handstories

On the brink with pink

    Recently, I wrote a friend about feeling on the brink, and that I didn’t know why, but making a boat always seems to help. And it did.

Actually, I made two boats.

    Another “I don’t know why…“ is the reason that there is so much pink in recent pieces?  This one was actually started a month or so ago and put aside when I got stuck. There was a lot of heavy stitching in it. I finally got out of my own way, took out the stitches, and replaced them with so many tiny ones- to hold it together and echo the beautiful dyeing by Jude (moon) and Deb (pink fabrics). 

    Another of Jude‘s moons and Deb’s threads- a kind of remembering of how much small spaces can hold.

    July 1st, a third boat... without words. 


    Today’s.  I wanted a pink house from the get-go, and one thing led to another. There were a lot of thoughts about process.  Wondering if it was a kind of doodling- adding something here, there… But I think it’s more connected to writing for me. Starting with a “Once upon a time…” followed by the “and's…”

    Whatever it is, it feels good today.

Gatherings

    Moon’s graduation weekend was very swell- time with Moon and girlfriend, an unplanned visit with Deb, and a day in Vancouver, BC.

    This one made a while, looking at a fancy box of matches.

    When does the group of something become a collection?  I tried finding the collective noun for matchboxes.  Nothing.  Matches are a book or a box.  Boxes are a stack.  So maybe a stack of books?  A book of stacks?  A stack of boxes?

    Tried flowers.

    Went back to boats.

    And this was interesting to do. Using Jude's stacked stitches I filled in a mosaic printed cloth from Maiwa’s with shades of green, Deb’s threads, and a few tiny scraps. Tension is an issue for me. It was good to practice, practice, practice.

    “Magic Mountain”

    And then to relax, a small simple peace wish made with of more of Jude’s techniques- Seemingly Seams and Glue stitch. Both feel like magic tricks.

    It was left in a neighborhood Free Little Art Gallery while out for a walk this morning. I wonder where it will go next?

A kajillion little things

    "In the Glory of Light"

    I spent this week making so many tiny stitches, hour after hour.  After the previous week of sunshine and open windows, it's turned dark and gray with occasional downpours.

 

    I don't mind.

    "Amidst Joy"

    Quiet uneventful days are a gift.

 

    Still looking at and drawing/painting boats.  This one was from a photo on our friends' boat last summer.

    Blue sent photos from his weekend in the port town of Valparaiso, Chile.

 

    Inspired by song that our community singing group sang. The lyrics are, “I have a million nightingales on the branches of my heart…. Singing, freedom, freedom, freedom.”  An adaptation of a poem written by Mahmoud Darwish-A poet and writer, who was considered the national poet of Palestine.  A beautiful song.  Listen here. 

    If we all had birdsongs in our hearts... can you imagine?

    “Freely”

 

Sailing

    I’ve decided that I can paint whatever I want, whenever I want.  So simple, yet so hard for some of us.

    "On Her Way..."

    So, I’m drawing, stitching, and looking at photos, figurines, paintings of boats… boats, and more boats.

    And I’m even allowing myself to keep my eyes open.  Doing the blind paintings was a way of just being in the moment and also of not judging myself. If my eyes are closed, of course it’s not going to be perfect.  For the last few drawings, I've kept my eyes on the reference mostly, but peeked at the paper now and then. Trying to work quickly and loosely, to remember the childhood joy of drawing.

    I gave dyeing with black beans a whirl. Easy peasy- dried beans and cold water.  Left the cloth in overnight.  Depending on the fabric, it came out shades of purple to gray (that bright purple piece started out pink).  

    “Going… Without knowing or caring”

    I used some of it for the lower sky here (below Deb's dazzling dyeing).

    While doing this one a memory came…  Growing up I drew all of the time, but then the teenage years made way for other things – theater, writing, basketball… (a few boys, too, including K.!).  One birthday, 16th I think, my brother gave me a gift. We weren’t close anymore, avoided each other or spoke in snarls.  As I opened up a small sketchbook and set of colored pencils, he said, “You don’t draw anymore.”  I was so touched that he had noticed and cared. I still have that little book somewhere.

    Rhode Island sister is coming to town tomorrow.  Looking forward to our time together, and some sea. And probably another boat...

Rainbows of feelings

    Leftover thoughts from the birthday cloth, I think.  Celebrating sky.  The swirling line is that metallic silver thread, it's not showing up very well here, but it's wonderful in the sunlight.

    Terrariums thoughts.

    Which may have inspired a long overdue dusting of the jar and bird shelf. Starting with the top shelf, washing the bowls, and trying to dust the elaborate gilded-like frame of the painting. 

     That painting...  It’s is family. Painted by a woman who lived up the road from my dad's foster home where he grew up.  It hung above the fireplace of my childhood home.  Writing this, I am suddenly overwhelmed with all it stirs up- sentiment, sorrow, anger, love... 

    A pink moon made from more of Deb’s fabric.

    It feels like a long while since I last made a boat.  It may be time.

Blue, Books, Blanche, & Boats

    Indigo did happen, but I timed it wrong, forgot about a zoom appointment.  The result was meh at the hottest (whiniest) part of the day.  The main goal of blue wrapping cloths for the shop was accomplished and there were a few of these overdyes that made me happy.  (I wonder if I will ever stitch a piece that turns out straight with 45° corners?)

    There was another unexpected happy place... I've been thinking about zines, small books, as a way to bring some things together- stitching, painting, writing.  Also, a friend likes the boat paintings, so I've been thinking about how to make a little book of them for her.  On Thursday, a favorite artist/teacher of a friend posted a photo of blue papers with the words "the sea" announcing that he was teaching a zine class... sold!

    I meant to work on the boat idea, but Grandma showed up.

      Her name is whited out here for privacy, but it's a long list... Blanche Ione Sp., Sh., W., St., St., and Ab.  Born Sp., married Sh. (who died while she was pregnant with my mom), married W. (who only lasted for six months when Mom was in first grade. A mean man.), married, divorced, re-married, and re-divorced St., and then Ab was her on-again/off-again boyfriend in the later years.  (She said that she was done getting married.)

    I loved Grandma, but not her cooking.  I remember begging to go over AFTER dinner.  You never knew what would be on the plate.  Especially when it was a last minute invitation, which meant one of the old-timers at the bar had offered some of their catch of the day. 

    The frog legs were chewy.

    There's a growing list of ideas for more bite-sized booklets of Blanche.

   

    And the boat idea was begun...  It was a really good day.

Time & times

    Started with a sienna sun print, with a bit of blue cyanotype, too.  (Terrible at keeping track of processes, would make a terrible scientist.) 

    Blue's photos from Chile are wonderful to see.

    These were taken on a day hike to Laguna Caren.  He has become part of a group of young people from all over the world, who are also tutoring.  They get together a few times a week- Sunday picnics, pancake party, Christmas dinner in June, bus trips to the beach and mountains...  They find ways to have fun on next to nothing budgets, scrimping by together on adventure after adventure.  All of this a far cry from the last couple of years that he spent mostly alone in Michigan during the pandemic.  He sends photos of the gatherings and group shots with the words, "Friends!" underneath.  So happy to see and hear how good he's doing.

    This one is about home and memories.

    Boats are back in the daily paintings.

    A couple of evenings ago on a friend's sailboat, just sitting at the dock watching the sunset.  There was an otter and herons, too.

    Last night, with the same friend at Urgent Care (Or judging from the speed of service...semi-urgent care.  We left at 9 and were home in bed at 2).  Fortunately, antibiotics were the solution, nothing more serious.  We passed the hours chatting, looking up corny jokes, I repeated past behavior by stitching an "x" onto her sheet again, and taking selfies because, "These are the times of our lives!"

    Almost.

    She keeps reaching, almost as long as my arm.

    Things swirl along.

Never a Dull Moment

    Deb's cloth made for an earthy hill on blackberry-ish purples by Tina, with a small scrap of the starry cloth K. gifted me for Christmas twenty-five years ago in anticipation of baby Blue.

    There was a bit more boat mending in the wind and the cold under a daylight moon.

    In an effort to maybe, just maybe, get this quilt done in time, I keep it on my lap while stitching for the shop.  Whenever there is a bit of thread left in the needle, it goes into the quilt.  Sometimes it's only a few stitches, but that keeps things interesting.

    Speaking of interesting... There was an evening at my friend's condo this weekend.  They live near a hospital and a couple of nursing homes, so sirens are common.  But suddenly there was siren after siren...

    We looked out the window to see that the street was full the length of two blocks and around the corner of her building.

    Across the street an old, abandoned house.

    We spent the next hours watching out their windows.  The hours were also spent with fond and fearful memories of my dad's decades as a fire fighter. 

    The house is still standing, without some of the roof and floors.

    "It's never a dull moment around here!" I commented.  We laughed at the crazy their world seems to be full of these days.  Over there again last night, we talked about how pretty the fire actually was, especially at one point when snow was falling.  We thought it could be their Christmas card... "Our world is on fire, and still beautiful... Merry Christmas!"  We laughed some more.  Laughter is such good medicine.

    And so is stitching! (More of Deb and Tina's dyeworks.)

What we can do

    Many thank yous for all of your love and kind thoughts on the last post.  You folks fill my spirit.

    I was alone the last few days.  The guys were all scattered to the wind with fun plans, and I was looking forward to really concentrating on stitching for the shop...  and then the last week happened.  Letting things go.  I did spend hours watching really stupid TV and quilting on the woven quilt.  Some really bad stitching in places.  Letting that go, too.

    There will be more definitive news this week, hopefully with a plan, hopefully with some kind of hope.

    Whenever I don't know what to do, I think about feeding them.  Especially her.  On Thanksgiving I spent two hours making stroganoff.  Not the kind of thing I normally do, but no one in the house likes mushrooms as much as I do. It was a good distraction, delicious, and I was so glad to be able to hand her a warm bowlful when she picked me up today.

    "Turn off the car for a minute and eat this."

    We went to batten down the hatches on their sailboat before the rains come.  While we worked, I kept hearing my dad's voice... all the things he used to say when we were out fishing, hunting, etc.  "Pay attention, you might learn something," was a favorite saying of his.

    While driving home, I fed her grapes.

    "Eir" for healing.

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..."