I was just plain stuck into thinking about the friends in Tasmania, all gathered together to make baskets, dye cloth, and stitch. I had drawn one of the stones I had covered in patched cloth and then saw their balls of cloth scraps of material. these would be so much fun to toss back and forth in a nursing home…not the rock ones I make, not those! Anyway, I only have two or three pages left in this book so will make another one to keep up with my pretending I am there when they gather. I don’t know why I thought this one book would be all that was needed. They are never going to stop their gatherings and I am never going to not want to pretend I am there. I have enough of all the papers used for this book and can easily make Vol. II.
There were some new leaves in the yard. And they needed to be added to the leaf section of the six way book.
I don’t remember dogwoods having these seed pods in Spring. But they were interesting to draw. these latest drawings seem a bit weak, but there is always the next leaf to do. Just keep at it.
I have been working on my book about the importance of letters and how different the words are when hand written versus text or email. Letters are so important, to write as well as receive. But are becoming more and more infrequent. Some words just need to be hand drawn out while others can be rushed into the ether in anticipation of immediate responses.
Another thing that has been on my mind is do you notice how many people are tattooed? Some cover their whole bodies without a thought as to how hard it will be to see bruising in an emergency room. Or how all those tiny dragonflies and butterflies will look like they flew into a tree trunk years later. Why do people want to make the marks of decorative bruises on their skin? I remember one fellow who during his Navy days long ago had a sexy buxom girl in very short shorts tattooed onto his forearm muscle. I would ask him over and over to make her move in a very flirtatious way. Over the years she became slower and then gave up altogether. I still smile at the memory.
But now, the goal seems to be to cover yourself with symbols that shout out who and what you are or hope to be. Think of the creepy Secretary of Defense here in the US. Years from now his body will be a documentation of unfulfilled aspirations. I did know a bartender who showed me her leg-long octopus once. By the time she enters the nursing home it will likely have fallen into seaweed.
Other than writing someone’s phone number on your palm, body marks, and permanent ones at that, totally escape my appreciation. And it is that color, too. the color of fresh bruises. Yes, I know there are all types of color tattoos now. I knew a diner cook who sported a frying pan with yellow-yolked eggs on her upper arm. I never dared ask if they flipped over when she flexed.
So that is all I had to say about paid for marked up bodies. I will return to writing about things I understand.
Here is a shot of Sadie on her chair this week.
She is such good company.
I bought more fabric for shirts recently and the green that looked more sage in the picture turns out to be a pale mint color. I am going to tie it up and toss it into a bath of black tea and iron just to see what happens. Might just do that today after my workout. There is no way I would be allowed to hang it out on a line in this neighborhood but there is the garage…and it is only two yards.
Should stop, find some lunch, do my workout and start cooking up that tea in the dye pot.
Til later…