handstories

Friendly Ghosts

    "Floating into Being"

    A happy accident led to a lovely reunion. A couple of weeks ago, I sent a text by speaking rather than typing and hit send before realizing it was going to someone whose name sounded very similar. This someone was a classmate in those painting classes at the local college years ago.  One text led to another, until the two of us, along with a third friend from the classes, were sitting down for lunch this weekend.

    Not having seen either of them for more than five years, it was fascinating to me that my usual social anxieties didn’t kick in (for the most part). I rarely go back in time to meet up with people. It’s usually not about the person from the past, rather more of a fear of running into old, unwelcomed ghosts of myself.

    But this time, there was calm. Near the end of our time together, I told them so, realizing that being with them took me back to those calm, peaceful hours of painting in that classroom. I had forgotten how much I loved being there. 

    "Spells for Well-Being"

    In the Studio...  These two, they are like an old married couple, how they check in with, keep track of, and bicker with each other. And then there are moments like this, when he brought his drawing to show her, and she gave him sincere admiration.  It’s such a gift to be there.

    The Studio has moved to a new location (much further away, challenging my driving anxiety).  A new big room that is all their own, with no need to take down tables, pack everything away, etc. at the end of the day so that another class can come in afterwards. Happily, the artists all seem at peace with this shift.  

    "Into the Unknown"

    Working in the bigness of this (13 1/2 inches square), felt very good.  (With thanks to Jude, Deb, and Tina for their generous sharing in this piece and/or those above.)

    There is also a new book to share.  I will try to put it here in a couple of days.  Typepad was a struggle today. 

Foolish Galore

    Wondering if anyone noticed my mistake on my last post?  Not me!  When I finally did, I thought about just naming it, “In Need of Weeding," but I couldn’t unsee it or convince myself that it was just a tall piece of grass.

    So, I spent some time thinking about how to fix it without removing the back (probably more time than it actually took to remove it and put it back).  

    Garden tended.  (Tina dyed this beautiful blackberry sky.)

 

    And then, sitting down to knit for a bit, I realized that someone had got carried away with her knitting.  There were an extra 24 rows. Yes, it could’ve just been a taller sock, but the first one was already finished.

    Sigh.

    I’m looking for something new to do with the morning paintings. I don’t know what it is yet.  Doodling for now.

    This is the beginning of yet another effort to post more often. Shorter quicker posts, so as to avoid the overwhelm of it having been so long, which often brings everything to a halt. Hopefully, I’m not just fooling myself!

Arcs

    Recent stitching- a series in rainbows.  (Inspired by and created with the dyeing talents of Deb and Tina.)

 

 

    New ideas- abstracted rainbows, black thread.  These pieces felt like drawing more than usual.

    On Instagram, someone asked if I would ever be able to go back to my usual palette after working with in such vivid colors?  I really enjoyed playing with these brights, being braver with bold, and there was already a piece in dark blues going by the time I saw the comment.  I am going to do more with these ideas.  They feel like an expansion rather than a shift.

    I don't have a lot of words for here or in regular life.  Things are ok, swell mostly.  Life felt really good for weeks, and then there was a head-first dive into a downward spiral last week.  Sometimes I do myself in.  It's an old habit, but at least I recognize it now.  This is progress.  Onward...

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.)

Joy

    We strolled through the local botanical gardens for our anniversary afternoon. 

   A place we've gone often.  A place with memories of good and rocky times, alone and with the boys.  K likes the dahlias, for me it's the water features and wispy meadow like spots.  An old timer made a cheesy jokey compliment to me.  Something my dad would have done.  It made me roll my eyes and smile.

    "Asra" meaning "nighttime journey".

    Speaking of journeys... I'm off for the next bunch of days to attend/assist another workshop with Christine Mauersberger.  I'm looking forward to days of making and soaking in inspiration, to sitting still, spending time thinking and wondering, gathering some thoughts and sense of where I am and might want to go.  It's a tall order for a few days, but a soul can dream.

Seas & Season

"From the Deep"

"Twilight Sea"

"Song of Sea & Sky"

    A sea stitching did happen, with thanks to ThreadCrumbs, Deb, and Tina for sharing their dyeing expertise in the moon, threads, and cloth.  It was nice to do a series, exploring a few wave ideas, and peacefully stitch thoughts of the ocean.  They happened after Moon was delivered to college and K went to visit family for a few days.

    Alone for the first time in a month!  It was swell.  I did miss him in the evenings, but the days... I got so much done, including fall cleaning (which is when I get the urge, rather than spring).  The timer was set for 45 minutes of stitching, then 15 for cleaning.  It worked wonders.  The kitchen counter was completely cleared, weeded, and rearranged.   The flour and sugar canisters are now at the other end of the kitchen, shocking but true.  Isn't it funny how things get set up and rarely change?  The bathroom was scrubbed, boxes were emptied, the studio room floor was found under piles, boxes, baskets, and books that were put away.  A carload went to donations, and a few bags of art supplies were taken to the local elementary school.  K says that he should go away more often.  I said, no, just back to work.  (Both of our fingers are crossed that it will be next week.)

"Spell Gathering"

    This piece and I went round and round.  It was ripped apart twice before we came to an understanding.  I wasn't listening.

    Yesterday was the first day cool enough for wool socks.  I love autumn.

So many feelings

 

"Moon Memories"

    Sunday's smokey sunset.  Glad the air is clear again.

    K. is getting about unaided, feeling pretty good, off all the meds except Tylenol, sleep is improving, and can put on his own cursed compression socks!

    Detail of "So Many Things," a piece that was started almost two years ago.  I've thrown myself back into stitching this week.  It feels good to be stitching for hours again.

    Moon is packing up for his sophomore year of college.  A tutoring job in the math department is waiting for him.  As is an apartment with friends. The plan is to stay until their degrees are done, including summers.  He says he's probably never going to live here again, and so he's putting his life into boxes that will move to the basement or go with him.

    I'm having a whole variety of mom feelings, all over the spectrum.  The last few days have been challenging.  Two more to go.  Neither of us is great with change.  I've seen growth on both of our parts.  I really am trying to trust that it's all good, or at least good enough.  If nothing else, the room will get a long overdue cleaning.

    The "Samar" tree token, the name means 'evening conversations'.

    Detail of "Magic Sky".

    I'm craving the ocean again.  Time to stitch some sea.

Contented in Through

"Through"

    While naming pieces for today's update, "through" kept coming up.  So many things feel like "getting through" right now, not in a bad way, just things going on, and remembering my mother-in-law's idea that "through is a place".  I guess we are always in through.  (This through started with a dreamy piece of Deb's cloth and was framed in Tina's twilight purple.)

    In anticipation of K's surgery on Monday (the biggest through), and of his being home for weeks, I wove and pinned the next section of the quilt.  Did it have a name?  If so, it's gone now.  

    I'm guessing that there will be less time and focus for making pieces for the shop.  Quilting will be a comforting no-thinking required thing to do.

    Not the best photo, but a sense of where it's at now.

    And a blurry hot pink photo of the current socks on the needles in the bright sunlight.  I often knit a few rows after breakfast to wake up my hands and head.  These are eye-openers!  Someone I know has been wearing a lot of hot pink and fuchsia lately.

    Bear close-up for Barbara.

    "Razia" meaning "contented".  Wishing the same for us all.

Floating & Flow

    This was started in the few quiet moments of last weekend, in between hours of this...

    Blue Angels.  They roar over our house for four days- two of them practicing, and then two days of shows for Seattle's Seafair every August.  One of the silver linings of the pandemic was the event being cancelled for two years, but they came back.  They can be seen out of any window in the house.  Sometimes so low that you can make out the writing on the sides.  The house shakes, my brain shakes, the cat runs.

    We went to the co-op to escape.  The display of currants beside apples and strawberries was beautiful.

"An Exuberance"

    Fresh indigo dyed silk on Tina's midnight purple above Deb's fiery cloth.  It felt like a party.

    And this one, started yesterday.  Often it all comes down to what scraps are scattered closest.  It began with the pink arc.  I was thinking rainbow, but then went looking for a moon.  This is one of Jude's, beneath a starry gift also from her... and then the two small scraps by Deb and Maiwa were within reach...

    Sometimes everything finds each other, reaches out and connects in ways that feel outside of me, a kind of floating into place.

Many kinds of stories

"Maybe a Lot of Things"

    I'm liking these longer cloths lately.  Space for more layers of the story, but not overwhelming.

    We went to Oregon for the weekend.  To visit family.  I spent most of the days with my mom.  Her days are so different now, without her husband, or the need to care for him.  There is so much time in a day when life suddenly empties of all you know. 

    We spent some time driving through my hometown (she lives in the city next-door now).  We stopped by to visit her best friend, who still lives next door to the house that I grew up in from age five until 18, when I left home.  The photo above is how it looks now.  It feels too wide open and lifeless to me.  My bedroom was there at the top.  I used to crawl out onto the roof on summer evenings.

    This is how it was... (photo taken as it was being sold when I was 24).  Blue (Mom's choice), the split log fence Mom built to keep us and the neighbor kids from riding our bikes over the corner, and the two big trees on either side of the corner.  A lot happened in that house.  Seeing it makes me want to weep from many kinds of sadness.

    When all of the leaves were picked off, the indigo stems were put into water.  Look at all of the new leaves!  They continue to grow above the stitching table among small stories- the ship in a bottle (it appeared when I was cleaning off my shelves to leave my teaching job), a bluebird from Blue, a clay "piece of mind" made by Moon when I told him I wish I had "peace of mind". 

    In the works, with a moon from Jude.  What goes under the arch, I'm not sure yet? It feels like a place where stories might meet.