handstories

piece & peace (& lack of)

    Yesterday was a pretty and peaceful day.  Our hill was quiet and calm.

    We got about seven inches.  The day was spent stitching and not thinking about Tuesday's trip.  

    Last night anxiety attacked.  Nightmares of Dad and guns, me trying to keep others safe, and another of fragile wombats and premature babies that I was responsible for keeping alive, and failing.  Today there is a headache and stress for the weather, the drive, some of the people to be with there, the task to do, and for the work left to do inside of myself.  

    It's looking like I should leave tomorrow, a day early, between storms.  I don't like driving in good weather.  I don't want to leave home.

    Time to start packing, and searching for some inner peace...

sanctuaries of self

    I've been thinking of shrines, temples, altars.   The idea of "holy" is in it, but it's more about the spirit, rather than the spiritual, a way of marking what's held dear.  A cobbled indigo arch was the start, wanting there to be something roughly hewn about it. 

    Or maybe it's a window?

    Remembering the beautiful starred ceilings in Italy (the purple painted background was made by the lovely Italian Blandina).

    Also recalling the gathering that was made when a baby was wanted, after that first loss, when every breath felt like a wish.  Figures and photos of blue birds, leaves, blossoms, blue sea glass, crystals...anything that felt like hope was put on a small table top.  The gathering was touched every day until Blue came.

    A window to memories?

    I'm feeling the need for some of that kind of quiet magic again, but am unsure what's wished for?  Maybe it's just a way to hold onto myself?  I'll be making more of these...

listening to trees

    Having finished the blankets, I had meant to "Christmas" the house yesterday, or today, but the only thing that has happened is that the Christmas tree is standing here, naked, with a pile of lights on the floor next to it.  I stitched a story cloth instead.

    "I need a map," is a frequent thought these days.  I thought this piece would be about that, even pulled out fabrics with maps printed on them, and a book with map drawings... but it quickly fell together into this tree and roots.  With hardly a thought, there it was.

    Maybe it's an attempt to tell myself it's not a map that's needed,  but instead, to believe that I'm not lost.

    Time to put the lights up... 

    "She grew her own roots" in the shop.

illumination

    A moonlit garden and a jar of memories of hope are in the works.  (The roots of the garden is a pretty patch gift from Jude.)

    This piece is filling up, and happily not with the darkness that was expected, instead a whole lot of light is pouring in.

(And last night's dream...visiting a friend's house (that I've never met), going to a baseball game with her, where I caught ball after ball, until I was balancing an armload of baseballs, while still catching ball after ball...)

patching things

    It was rough here last night. Late in the evening, in an effort to calm, a bunch of scraps in the basket were grabbed and stitched down.  Taking the shape of a house, of course.  

    Later, there was a dream... Driving through New York City with both boys, heading to meet K. All three of us were sitting in the backseat with no one driving. That old nightmare. And then Blue reached over to take the wheel.   Relieved and terrified all at the same time (because in real life, he still doesn't have his license), I watched him maneuver through rush-hour traffic as we headed into a tunnel.

    And there, standing in the middle of the thoroughfare amidst a pile-up of wrecked cars, was Jude.  She had on a short fitted grass green dress, respectable and fancy, dressed for a party.  She was moving from to car to car, carrying a medicine bag- one of those old-fashioned Doctor's bags. Calm as can be. I yelled for Blue to take a picture of her with his phone camera.  He took a couple shots, and then finally pulled over to get into the front seat.  As he drove us through the tunnel, we passed Jude standing over a pile of broken car parts, throwing her hands up in the air and walking away, knowing she'd done all she could do. 

    This morning I found that moon on the dining room floor.  I'll stitch it on after work.

light & shadow

 

    Oh, the light is terrible today- very bright or dim and full of clouds, but really, there is a sparkle on that spoon.  The spool of silver was bought in the early 90's, but quickly set aside because it was a pain to stitch with.  It still is.  But it did its job of glittering things up today.

    Thinking on what will fill this- a fairytale, a wished for one, and maybe a few starry memories.  Originally the thought had been to keep things light in spirit and recollection on this cloth.  Try as I might, what flows through has a dark side.  Then again, so do most fairytales.  Gathering thoughts is not coming easily these days, just a jumble... it's sure to all sort itself out in the end, one way or another.

    And does anyone else see the polar bear here, in the bottom right corner?!  A story begins...

    Cloth and variegated thread by Deb, and moon from Jude.

stitching self

    This is the last painting that I started at the workshop...still pulling my thoughts together.

    The floating figure is based on a poppet/doll started a few years ago.  A kind of self-portrait.

    Things are out of sorts right now.  Today is a day off, alone, and most of the morning was spent shuffling projects, taking a stitch here and there.  Finally, I pulled her into my lap and have been adding waves to wrap around her tree-ring heart.

    The rest of the day might be spent inside of a new found fairytale retelling, Sea Witch.

list ticked

    The list is all checked off, at least enough of it.  Enough that I can leave for the weekend.  Everything's packed, including the beginning of a new piece for myself, about childhood and holding onto what was good.  

    I'm off to a workshop through Sunday, a self-indulgent splurge that I've been looking forward to since last spring.  This experience is so out of my comfort box, and right up my alley all at the same time.  

    More about the workshop (and the spoon) soon...

    Wishing everyone a happy and kind weekend!

enough

    And suddenly it's autumn weather, even a light misting rain this morning.  So happy to put socks on.

    It's been a kind of a topsy-turvy week, often not even knowing what day of the week it is.  The Blue Angels are practicing over and rattling the neighborhood right now, so this must be Thursday.  Yesterday, while draping cloth to dry, I looked up to see who was chattering in the tree, only to have a shower of squirrel pee land on my head and face.  Last night Blue told of his plans to be in the Macy Parade at Thanksgiving, and to spend January in Prague.  I'm not even sure which way is up right now?!

    Continuing to wrestle with the indigo vat, trying to force something out of it, putting the cloths back into it each day and overnight, poking it with a stick now and then, deeper down in the dying blue.  It's wet in the photo above, dripping the last round of effort, in the mist.  Expecting that it will be much lighter once washed, but calling it a done deal...blue enough.

 

    This cloth keeps landing in my lap.  Many of the squares are stitched with some kind of circle.  A symbol of wholeness and centering for me.  Loving how they hold and contain space, and give a sense of infinity at the same time.  I've been trying to meditate this week, just a little bit each day.  I'm terrible at it, and don't know if it's doing a thing for me.  Within ten minutes jumbled thoughts zip in and out, and all over the place... hanging a painting, spiders, tape, tuna fish sandwiches, scary dolls, phthalo turquoise, and deepest desires.  It is restful, and the fleeting moments of focus usually come back to the idea of wholeness...what it might mean, feel like...whole enough.

gaps

    Yesterday, I completely messed up the indigo vat.  There are still some cloths in the bottom of the bucket, also some down in the washer, needing a second rinse.  Disappointed and discouraged, I've decided to ignore it all today.  Wandering around this morning, wondering what to do instead (besides housework that I'm also ignoring), the missing cloth was found!  

    Someday I'll figure out how to take good photos of it, maybe.  It's so big, and all of those woven white muslin strips with single thread stitchings, they just fade away in photos.  There was one square stitched each day for a year, an August to August (2011-12).  Most were just expressions of a mood, others reflected something from the day. 

    I have no idea about most of them, gone, like memories.

    Today I'll continue working on stitching the backing on.  There is no plan or order here, just vertical or horizontal lines, not even straight ones.  There are places where they cross, miss each other, or just stop mid-stream.  Maybe the thread ran out, distractions came along, or who knows?

    I think I'll look for the small empty lost places today, and try to fill them.