Month: March 2026

An early start to the days this week. My cleaning lady helped me find her favorite nursery and just one hour later they had my two new trees planted in the yard. A weeping plum and an October Glory maple. More privacy in the view from my sunroom.

We are having beautiful Spring weather right now, so I am looking to freshen things up a bit around here. This morning I mixed up my bug deterrent to spray around the foundation. Mainly to keep out the occasional centipede and those pesky crickets. They have no resemblance to Jiminy Cricket or I would welcome them in. These look more like the ones a person would buy at a pet store to feed their lizards at home trapped in a glass aquarium staring back at kids who just had to bring them back from a trip to Florida.

Last night was the annual call from friends in Australia that finished their workshops at Grampians Texture in Halls Gap, Victoria. For over an hour I got to see the amazing work they did and were continuing to work on in the house we all rented together for many years. They are so talented in their embroidery, drawing, building of books and boxes. I miss being in the middle of that, helping by tossing out more ideas on how to say what they are expressing. They also brought along other greetings from other students I’ve had over the years. It was wonderful! I sipped an Australian wine as we caught up. After we said goodbye, they sent images of a cockatoo and kangaroo who came to visit.

Speaking of extraordinary students down under, I woke to see the news of one that continues to leave an impression on me. Charlotte Drake Brockman passed away a couple of weeks ago. She was the subject for an entry for the Archibald award portrait in Australia. I stayed with her and Inga Hunter in my early days of teaching down under and Charlotte was a favorite to share a scotch with when we were at the same venues. Here is the portrait entered in the Archibald.

She and Inga colored my hair orange and pink one morning after eating a breakfast Charlotte made me of scrambled eggs and those dreaded (at the time) fried tomatoes. Not fried as Americans think of fried, breaded and deep fried, but simply tossed in the frying pan next to the eggs. You did not say no to Charlotte. She lived to be 92 and I hope she had tomatoes and scotch up to the end. I loved her company, her independent thinking, her self-assuredness and her style.

Anyway, I promised my friends down under that I would get busy and make something to show them next year and in our frequent emails. I think something mechanical in nature…something that moves and tells a story would be fun. I told them it is hard to be joyful in a country that produced the kind of people who support Trump. They told me of their not knowing if there will be gas at the stations in the small towns they must drive through in their long trip back home. We are so ignorant and self-centered here in this country that we have no idea that the war Trump has waged on Iran and their response has caused a backup of trucks waiting for gas to come into the country and be delivered into these small towns. My country makes me embarrassed and sick for what we have let a deranged leadership get away with. I will disappear into my studio and busy my hands.

I do continue to stitch the shawl.

And now with Spring arriving, I have found more leaves to draw and paint into my book.

I might go get a bit of lunch. After this morning’s breakfast of French toast with Greek yogurt, maple syrup, and strawberries, I am not that hungry.

Okay, I need to have a bite to eat then thread a needle.

Til later…

 

 

I had a quiet week. there are no pictures because the sky was uneventful and the food matched the level by being boring. My cats are still cute, so no new pictures there.

I went to a very small neighborhood party. Took a bottle of red wine. Drank some to answer the question, “Sandy, what kind of art did you make?” I went through a couple descriptions of exhibition work…Former Yugoslavia, Expedition to Elsewhere, etc. Then told of hiring a backhoe to bury it all. Puzzled looks before returning to the weather and the hostess’s beautiful cat.

I also went to a poetry meeting and read the following.

I Saw Her in the Laundromat

She folds the underwear carefully, hers and her daughters.

In doing so, she holds them out in front of her body – chest high –

gently pinching the waistband’s elastic between forefinger and thumb,

trying not to notice, too much, the vast difference in size.

These simple garments are a condensation of their differences,

their almost total unlikeness of each other.

She becomes agitated all over again with the senseless longing

for what she no longer is and probably never was.

Amid the smells of laundry, softeners, and soaps,

neatly piled stacks of plain white cotton and colored silks,

she remembers to smile.

There was a short discussion about where a comma should be and a woman wanting to point out how thick her waist has become. Other than that there was complimentary comments about my ability to point out the importance of the mundane. All of which made me read the one line from Thomas Wolfe that inspired me to make a small edition of books with relief print illustrations of clothes on a line stitched to each page. This quote was my inspiration for the artwork done about my comfort in being with a group of men and the feeling of belonging I continue to recognize.

“”And this utterly familiar common thing would suddenly be revealed to me with all the wonder with which we discover a thing we have seen all our lives and yet have never known before.” Thomas Wolfe

I will be taking a break from this poetry group as well. Both groups have more attendees reading poetry with very little, if any, time for discussions beyond the use of commas.  And to be honest, some of the poetry is very far over my head. If I have to look up the meaning of words that just seem stuck in to be an example of knowledge that takes the reader away from what is being said, then I lose the plot as they say. My inspiration and lessons in writing poetry will be learned in the words of Ted Kooser, the over-used Mary Oliver, and pre-snarky Billy Collins. And maybe use some of the characters in my poetry as being worthy of a larger story. I need to listen more to what else these characters have to tell me.

And I need to stitch. Just thread a needle and poke it into ratty old cloth that wants to be mended and used as if it mattered.  I also need to draw more. Go back to painting stems and leaves. Concentrate on making something look like it is.

The other night I had an annual visitor come for dinner. Judy, a basket maker from Washington state who is in town teaching at the folk school. I am grateful that someone brings her over here for scotch and dinner while we talk about old times. She was recently in Australia teaching and caught me up on old friends. It was a delightful few hours.

So that is all I have. Just words. No pictures.

A wine I poured is now mostly gone. Perhaps a refill…

til later…

 

 

 

The days just keep coming and going. Each evening I ask myself what did I accomplish that day. Mostly I am happy to say I got in 8000 steps and a bit of my workout for stamina and balance. Cooking for myself is boring and results in making a dish that takes several meals to use up. I do wish there was a food delivery service in my area because it takes nothing for me to talk myself into not driving three minutes to get to town and order a take out meal. If I have a good breakfast and healthy lunch, then I will skip dinner. Wine, crackers and cheese seem a good option. I bought some lovely apples to fill in along with mixed nuts.

Yesterday and today I sewed up a new pair of linen pants. It always feels good to sit at the machine – especially on days when threading that pesky needle comes easy.

I love this color of grey with just a hint of green in it. Sort of a last year’s sage color. I bought a heavier linen this time…just for the drape. I don’t hear about anyone here in the neighborhood hand sewing. In Australia it was hard to find anyone who didn’t thread needles in anticipation of mending, reworking old clothes into something totally new, or pulling out favorite patterns to make some new clothes. Here I think maybe Walmart does a booming business in their clothing department. Then, if you find a company you can trust online, maybe try that. I did get suckered into buying some tops through one of those companies. I ordered the largest size they had because I was not trusting small Asian models to be wearing what they said came in extra large. And sure enough, after several weeks, the shirts arrived, just big enough for a ten year old to squeeze into. Forget the customer service calls. They would give me 15% back or I could get more back if I sent them (at my expense) to an address in Spain. I loved how they picked a very new England sounding name for their company. I am smarter now and trust nothing on the internet. AI also seems to make anything look appealing.  The end result was my cleaning lady took the clothes to use or pass on.

Taking stock of what I might give up doing to pass the time, and I have come up with little to let go. The small X Cut etching press will stay with me in case I want to etch more Christmas cards…even though last year’s have yet to arrive in Australia. Our government has become so downsized due to the extraordinary level of ignorance now in control, that I think those cards are sitting in an airport on their way to Austria. The sheer grift and greed resulting from such an ignorant base’s choice is a new record of deplorable.  But we were saved having an intelligent, qualified woman running the country. God forbid we keep up with the rest of the world.

I am keeping my fabrics and threads because holding pieces together is pure salvation. I continue to keep pretty much to myself and get a bit twitchy when around too many people. I like my own company and pick and choose who I will spend time chatting with.

There is still a chance I will write a longer story sometime. Just have to figure out who I want to spend that much time with. Anyway it is time to get this posted and go pour a glass of something.

Til later….

 

This will be very short as I am late for a neighborhood farewell to my physical therapist because I have been hung up in searching photos.

Here is how damaged the linen shawls were in 2017 when I dyed them with earth pigments that burned through.

And this week with various patches and loads of threads, I continue to keep them together in hopes of wearing this scarf/shawl.

And I heard from friends in Australia that they are getting ready to gather again at Grampians Textures. This is where we met for many years of having them in my workshop and then spending a few days in Halls Gap to work together and stay in a large house to accommodate all six of us. Fun times and my last time there was 2019…so this will be the sixth year of them calling me here to share our work long distance while they still gather at the same house. They each have ordered my latest book and will have that instead of me for what could be their last gathering of its kind. We are all getting older!

Thank you Andie for sending me this image of the books you ordered for everyone. And for reminding me of when the call will be.

It has been depressing here in the US because the president and his cadre of flunkies have decided to wage a war. Americans are at their all time low in accountability right now. I, like many here and around the world, wonder what the hell happened to a country that had so much promise…now squandered for the wealthy and short-sighted. Recovery to our former selves is quite impossible now. Who could ever trust us to not be this stupid and greedy again?

Sorry note to leave you on, but I must go have a drink and a hug.

Til later….