handstories

once upon a time...

    I thought this one was going to tell a dark fairy tale, but it turns out it's about story.  That's happening a lot these days.

    Dad was a pretty good storyteller, usually with a deadpan tone and face, ending with a "gotcha!" kind of a punchline.

    So, back to this piece...  While adding details to it this morning, thinking about how each stitch is a continuing of, or in, the story.  That every story comes from another, and reaches toward the next.  

    Of course, that led to my story, and the family of tales that I come from.  Like most, I suppose, it's a weaving of crazy, funny, hard, good, sad, and weary tellings.  (Although, ours may have a few more tangles and knots than most.)

    There was one particularly full piece of time around when I turned twenty, and mom was nearing forty.  The family was going through all kinds of drama.  I'd come home from college on the weekends when I could, and try to help piece things back together.

    Arriving home late one Friday night, I found my mom on the floor, her feet up on the built in desk.  She'd been crying.  "What's happened now?" I asked.  She said.  We sighed.  "It'll be ok... Somehow." I told her us.  Sitting down nearby, my back leaning against our childhood game cupboard, I asked, "Why don't you watch soap operas anymore?"

    "They're too boring now... compared to us."  And we laughed.

    At the time, I had imagined writing a book about it all titled 20/40 Vision, but was sure that none of them would ever talk to me again.

    All the stories, they go on and on... and how the moon was always there.

snow & sense

    Two snow days with no school...what a treat!  Self-indulgence abounded, including hot chocolate.  Yesterday there was knitting, and today one of Jude's moons is becoming a personal talisman.

    Twice I had to go out and deal with foolish drivers.  We live on a steep hill.  If it's snowy and icy, and there are no tracks in the snow, do not try driving up or down it.  It's not rocket science, people.  But, if you do, I will come out with a shovel, roll my car backwards down the hill so you won't hit it, offer guidance to help you get down, and be kind (but I will raise my eyebrows at you).

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.

found at sea

    Such a gloomy glum has hung over for too long.  Feeling done and dreary yesterday morning,  I thought I'd try stitching a boat.  It had been a while, three months.  It felt forced and wobbly, but I kept going.

    Deb's cloth and threads, and Jude's moon helped, but still, I didn't feel a real flow.

    Some waves were added in the therapist's waiting area.  She's so swell.  Aside from being very wise, validating and kind, she's an artist and an introvert.  She gets me.  She knows when to push and when I won't budge.

    "Maybe you want to tell them how you felt about it all?"

        "Maybe, but I'm not going to."

    "Maybe we should talk about why you won't?"

        "Maybe, but I'm not going to."

    "Then where will it all go?"

        "Here.  And then I just need to let it all go."

    And I did.

    And later the stars came out.

    It may take a few more boats and conversations, but today I can imagine some light in the shadows.

tides

    I'm just going with this one, without a plan, as usual.  Flowing.  This moon in turquoise from Jude just glows.  I want to be in this place.  

    It will come along with me tomorrow when I report for jury duty, sigh.  The last time (that story here), there was stitching, too.  A ways into the trial, I realized all of the tension and anxiety from the proceedings were bound up in the stitches.  They were tight and misplaced, so sitting in the jury room I proceeded to whip the stitches out, one after another, dozens of them.  One of the other jurors at the far end of the table commented, "I've never seen anyone sew so fast!  What do you call that kind of stitching?"

    "Backwards and wrong."  

    I hope these waves will help me relax and ride out the next couple of days, and not turn into a storm at sea.

purples- past & present

    There were a few comments about the white lines, so I thought I'd share the trick.  It's soap.  The sliver that it becomes just before breaking.  They have to be grabbed quickly before K. squashes them into the next bar.

    Using soap to draw lines was the best piece of advice that came out of the one and only quilting class that I took back in 1992.  It was about Amish quilting.  I had a bunch of hand dyed cloth to use.  The teacher looked at them and said they were all darks and mediums, there must be lights.  But not to worry, because after lunch the class would trade fabrics and my pile would be balanced out.  I worried.  I didn't want to part with my precious dark cloth, and didn't want their pale purples.  So, I went out for lunch, and didn't come back.

    But worried that she might be right, some muslin was dyed in a lighter purple, and the first real quilt, a triple nine-patch, was made.  I should have gone with my original plan.  

    The cloth I dyed faded and stands out like four light thumbs.  Oh, well.  Live and learn.  

    It was titled "October" and was an anniversary gift for K. in 1993.

    My first, and probably best quilting stitches.  Frontside above, backside below.

    It's a whole lot of purple.  Not my usual choice in life, but once in a while it comes calling...

(Moon from the ThreadCrumbs shop)