handstories

Full days

    "Ruby" for the gem-like feel to it.

    Someday I'm going to find the perfect clear pink glass bowl that lives in my imagination.  Some days it will be empty except for the rosy light glowing inside of it, other times rose petals might float in it, or a few special marbles will roll at the bottom, and once in a while it will be filled with sea water.  Someday.

    What happens when you have five minutes in the bathroom and a pair of scissors...

    It went much better than the last time.  K didn't have to repair any oddly cut angles, and I can roll over in my sleep without getting tangled again.

    Autumn is going full blast this week- wind, rain and dark dark mornings.  I love it, except for the fact that my studio room is cold.  It has the best light, and the worst temperatures- an added on room that holds summer's heat and winter's chills. 

    I've been wrapping myself up in this length of knitting.  A few of you might remember it... Knitted eight to ten years ago from some of my first handspun, over six feet long, and called "Breathing" because of this moment.

    (I do own a shawl pin thingy, but have no idea where it is.)

    And there's been more moon play.  The story changed over and over as I worked on it.  Actually, I guess that the cloth just grew somehow, because all of the stories are still here.  No name yet... still thinking on what words will hold all of the layers.

    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...

tear drops & trees

   Blue turned 22 yesterday.  We haven't been with him on his birthday since he went off to college four years ago, but this year found me a little sadder than usual about it.  Moon and K. tip-toed around a bit.  K. sent capital lettered texts to Blue saying his mama REALLY needed a photo of his WHOLE face (she did), Moon decided to JUST DO the schoolwork his mama asked him to, rather than argue that she hadn't asked him to (she did).  I cried a little while singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" during the zoom practice with our group last night (fortunately there are sixty of us and our images are too small to notice dripping faces).
   On a cheerier note, last week I cracked about social distancing, texting, screen time, missing time with women, etc.  A good friend heard my meltdown via texting, cursing and silence (this is not the cheery part), and had the brilliant idea of a picnic.  With our own food, wine bottles, blankets, and six feet between our lawn chairs, we spent the evening in the front yard under the Japanese maple tree.  We're hoping the weather holds for a repeat tonight.  It's great to have something to look forward to.

    The pages are going even slower than last week, just like me, but I'm so glad that most of them resemble the things they're meant to represent.  This photograph was a gift from K. years ago.  It still makes me take a deep breath with it's fairytale magic when I look at it, I'm sorry I don't know who took it.

    There are fifty-eight squares of quilting left.  This is a photo of the other side.  I don't remember dyeing this piece of indigo, or how those little flower shapes came to be (beneath the big blob of white), but I like them and used pale blue threads here to keep them as visible as possible.
        And a bobbin of spinning was finished up, and I surprised myself by still being able to spin a balanced yarn (not too much or too little twist in it).  If I stop and think about it, there's lots to be glad about.  I hope you're finding spaces of happy, too.

still Tuesday (I think)

    The pen was found, so pages are being labeled.  Now I'm wondering if I should mess with it more by adding bits of the stories of each thing?

    The start of today's page, Deb's thread.

    Another book, the first one I made, is open next to me as a place to test paints, practice writing, doodle (this one was one of Carla Sonheim's one-liner exercises).

    This morning I stood looking at the mailbox, trying to remember, "Did anyone get the mail yesterday?  Or was yesterday Sunday?  What day IS it?"  While trying to answer my own questions, it finally occurred to me to just open the mailbox and see. 

    The studio table is overflowing.  Things are precariously balanced atop each other- paints, books with painting that needs to dry, thread, cloth, to-do lists, pens, brushes, snacks...  

    This is how things go in our corner of the world.  (FYI- no one had emptied the mailbox yesterday.)

    Two-hundred-eighty squares (69%) finished, 128 to go.

    There was some spinning this week.  A little each day.  It's been SO long, so long that there were spider webs all over it.  It feels good to be at it again.

    And a piece was almost finished.  It's about all of this- how things might be, and maybe, just hopefully maybe, how things really are at the root of it all.

Rosee part 5:

    "I forgot to tell you about moving Tablespoon to the Dude Ranch in the pine hills. I got lonesome for him and his daily bath.

    Back in the summer of '34 when everything burned up in the drought, all the other horses had sore backs so Bill Hatch asked if he could use Tablespoon to ride circle. When they got back he was all a foam of sweat and they were afraid I’d give them hell for overriding him, so they sneaked him down to the pond and scrubbed him down clean before they turned him out where I might see him.

    Every time they turned him out in that pasture after that he’d go to the pond and climb in and give himself a bath.  Also he’d round up all the other horses and drive them into the corral till they finally had to put him in another pasture all by himself.  Anyway I drove to the ranch and rode him 13 miles to Ostendorfs and put him in their barn.  Emmett (her brother) came after me and took me home for the night. 

    Next morning, I came and got him and rode him about half way to the Dude Ranch.  I was standing by the road looking at him and he was looking at me as though he thought I was crazy, wondering how I could possibly get back on with my sore bottom and sore legs, when Empty came driving gaily along in the car. He leered out of the window at me, “I thought I’d find you just about here walking. How would you like to drive the car and I’ll ride him the rest of the way.“  I dearly loved him that minute."

making Shifu with Velma

    Such a good workshop.  The kind where time flies by, you're exhausted in the best of ways, are surrounded by a very good company of kindred makers, and filled with information and inspiration.  These photos only graze the surface of what the experience held.

    Velma Bolyard

    My wonky "wobble-sabi" (a Velma-ism) Shifu.  

    Thank you, Velma!

not that kinda girl

    Lest you all think I'm just a glitter and rainbows kinda sort . . . Moon was adding to his supply list, "What are cap rolls, and do we have any?"  Imagine his surprise, and mine, when I suddenly remembered that, yes, I did, and knew where they were.

    I have no memory of when or where I got them.  Probably I saw them somewhere and had a flash of memory and the fun we had as kids banging the caps with rocks on the sidewalk, trying to hit them just right to make those tiny cracks of explosion.   It ranked right up there with popping the tar bubbles in the street and setting paper on fire with a magnifying glass on hot summer days.

    Moon and I sat on the sidewalk, smashing the caps with rocks, me telling him all of this, and about standing on the edge of the concrete holding tanks Dad sometimes had on the back of the flatbed from work.  We would grab tree branches and swing off Tarzan style, until Mom yelled for us to stop before someone broke an arm.  

    And then there was the "vacation" my family took every May.  We would go to Eastern Oregon for a week of camping with a couple of other families.  Once you were twelve you got to join the group that went out each day to the rancher's land and shoot rifles at the ground squirrels that would pop out of their holes.  (The holes were a hazard for the cattle)  After my first "kill" I cut the tail off of the poor creature, tied a string on it, and wore it for weeks until it rotted off, much to my 5th grade teacher's dismay.

    After hearing my tales, Moon asked me if I ever did anything that wasn't dangerous as a kid?  I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised about his latest interests after all.

    (Yarn spun from a Hobbledehoy batt, the colorway is "Unicorn", in honor of the girl I wasn't!)

rest is required

    Here is the bobbin of yesterday's singles waiting to be chain plied.  It's supposed to rest for at least a day, to let the energy in it relax.  It's one of those spinning rules.  One that I don't quite know the "why" of, but that I'll follow, even though I'm anxious to see how it turns out.  It will be easy to pass the time, as this week holds two birthdays (K & Moon), and at least five baseball games (three of them involve being out of town and in a hotel in the middle of the state).  The summer is whooshing away.  

taking a moment

    Dusted off the spinning wheel.

    I'd forgot how centering this is . . .

in the midst . . .

    . . . of holiday bustling, band concert, piano recital, last minute knitting for gifts, the crazy days of school before it breaks for vacation, and everyone in the family catching some bug or other . . . I have been spinning this wool . . . and loving it.   

    Its gray-brown oatmeal like color is soothing, as is the squashy softness of the finished yarn.  It's a mix Targhee and Clun Forest wool (doesn't that bring up thoughts of ancient woodland creatures wandering through the woods?), bought at some local fiber gathering a while back.  Even the need to pick out bits of vegetation along the way is making me happy, connections to the real sheep who wore this coat in some nearby meadow.

    I've said this before, that spinning feels like coming home.  

    I'm grateful that there are so many ways to make- spinning, knitting, stitching, etc.  I couldn't pick a favorite, they all fill some need for expression and/or self-care.

    I'm thinking a lot about the word "share", what all it means, and how it could build deeper connections.   

    The conversation around it is just beginning in my head, still quite blurry and fuzzy.  Hopefully, it can be twisted and plied for strength, knit or woven into shape, and used to take care of some things, to keep them safe and warm.

some spinnings going on

    Sylvia Spider's been busy.

    Me, too.  The bobbin here is full of a single ply, ready to be chain-plied.  Still no sign of the Lazy Kate.  Still happy with the Industrious Shoe Box.

    Speaking of making-do, this is the Niddy-Noddy the guys made out of PVC pipe.

    Plied and full of sky thoughts.