handstories

the glow of things

    These are quiet days.  Blue and Moon are both usually working, or hanging out with friends.  For me, there has been lots of time for stitching and catching up with friends, too.  

    Yesterday's walk was with an old friend I hadn't talked to in six months.  We've known each other for almost twenty years, taught together, our boys went to school and played together when they were small.  She's one of the smartest coolest people I know, almost always calm and takes things in stride.  

    As we rounded the park, I shared some of the experiences of the last months, trying to tone down my stories, so as not to seem too overly dramatic compared to her collected self.  Surprisingly big bold expressions came out of her mouth!  I loved every one of them, and was so grateful for the validation.

    Sitting on a bench at the end, we went on about the now, and what's next for each of us.  I went on about my studio, how it has changed things.  "You've needed this for years," she said, and asked if I was finally going to let myself just be in this piece of time, without self-judgement and worry?

    "I think so."

        "I'm so happy for you."

    "Me, too... Who am I?!?"

    We laughed, and I felt warm from the inside out.

day one

    Yesterday was my last day at school.  Transitions always find me kind of lost, wandering through rooms wondering what to do with myself.  

    There was a little stitching with these squares (Five of them are scraps from Jude, including the sweet purple moon, and Deb's thread is holding them together.)

    There is a "Want To-Do" list that has been growing over the last months, with things such as being more active in this community again, organizing my studio, reread some Willa Cather, learn more about cyanometers, and how to make apple strudel... 

    There was putzing and haphazard painting.

    And this little pile of tiny scraps was found together.  I think they have a story to tell...

    Moon came home from school and asked the nicest thing, "How was the first day of your future?"  

changing it up

    These two, one of Jude's moons and a mountain shaped scrap, were at the top of the pile.  Red is not a usual go-to, but I wanted to see if something could come of them.  Deb's thread helped.

    Thinking about what I have, how to work with that, how to think about things and approach them differently... in cloth, too.
        A story about transition, as I head into the last week of my school job.

neighbor days

    The neighborhood has had plenty of stories this week.  

    We attended the memorial service for Mr. C, he was 96.  Mrs. C. is 96 too, in great shape, still gardening and a pillar of her church community.  She looked beautiful in her black sequined hat at the service.  (She has an amazing collection of "Going to Church" hats.)

    They built their house in 1956, and have always kept it up impeccably.  We've lived next door to them for the last 27 years.  He mowed the grass and cleaned the roof himself until the last couple of years.  I would watch him up on that ladder with fear and awe.  A quiet man, always cordial, knocking on the door now and then in summer to hand us zucchini and tomatoes from his garden.  He'll be missed.

    Our youngest neighbor across the street (9?) is a musician, and has had a guitar or drumsticks in his hands as long as I can remember (I can hear him playing right now).  His School of Rock concert was at the Hard Rock Cafe downtown yesterday.  They passed out much needed earplugs on the way in.  Someday we'll be able to say we knew him when.

    And then there was the trip to visit with old neighbors...  K. and I drove up for a day to have lunch with my Iowa friend, who used to live a few blocks away, but has retired up on the peninsula.  

    We also saw our old next-door neighbors (on the other side), who moved there a couple of years ago, too.  We miss them so much.  Just swell people, both artists, with two sweet boys.  He's a painter, and a house builder by day.  Tininha, is now weaving beautiful passionate textural creations. 

    While there, we met their lovely friend, Tracy, also an artist, who weaves, stitches, works on paper...the list goes on.  It was so nice to sit and share about making.  The big news is that we've started plans to have a show together later this year.  Excitement and nerves abound, but the two of them are full of grace and know-how, so it should be swell.

    There are so many un-knowns right now.  Focus and stitching are all over the place these days.  Nothing's quite done, waiting for more story to come...  And I keep thinking of something Jude said to me years ago, "...and it all formed as it might."

what's new...

    New stories in the shop... Take a gander here.

    Many thanks to Deb Lacativa, Tina, and Jude for their talents and sharing of cloth and thread.  

rainbows & rascals

    Last evening, there was the sweetest spring rain...and then I stepped out of the door.

    There was even a faint double rainbow, but it had faded by the time I ran back for the camera.

  The last two days were completely loopy at school, not bad, just cuckoo's nest.  One boy was unable to manage sitting still, so I asked him to come help to deliver some art to classrooms.  Handing him a pile to carry, he licked it.  

    Later, in the hall, there was a girl wandering slowly.  You get a sense about these things.  I asked her where she was headed?  Nowhere.  Where she was supposed to be going?  Upstairs.  "How about you show me where?  Let's go..."  Turned out she'd been wandering quite a while.  

    Another boy, who's been growing more and more defiant each week, seemed to be ok this week.  He was writing and illustrating a thank you note to the art museum along with the rest of the class, but upon closer inspection it was discovered that he'd drawn a naked boy, and I don't think they saw any nudes at on the field trip.

    Both days were like this, all day long.  Both days the adults in the room laughed a lot. Both days I came home and took a nap.  I'm going to miss these kind of days.

    And none of this has anything to do with the tree that was stitched on today... or maybe it all has everything to do with it?

(Moon from Threadcrumbs, rainbowed thread by Deb.

making waves

     A couple of days ago, I told K. that I felt like I was swimming upstream, and wearing out.  

    The funny thing is, once I said it out loud things shifted.  After two weeks of not stitching on story cloths, feeling story-less, a few squares began to take shape.

    New things were started and planned for, and some old stuff was even finished, and most amazingly, I mopped the bathroom floor!    "Just stitch some sea," I told myself, and under the soft glow of one of Jude's moons and the rainbow light of Deb's threads, the green tides flowed in and carried me to the other side.

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.