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There have been some beautiful skies this week. Not much drama down here at street level, but overhead a bit of rowdiness. A tornado warning came in the other night to take cover….I just stayed in bed because there was about 30 minutes before that alarm was over. Lots of crackling lightening, wind and thunder but the tornadoes were not here.

Lots of flowers are now in bloom. My pot with a returning plant bloomed.

The walk into my neighborhood.

And a very determined snapdragon coming up near where we have coffee each morning.

I finished my double gauze shirt and the lime green one as well.

It feels like wearing a cool cloud, so I ordered more of the fabric in soft grape and linden green. Now I have nice cool oversized tops for summer that will take a turtle neck undershirt come cooler weather. It is nice to hear the hum of a sewing machine with the promise of new clothes that did not come from the clingy knits available today. After it sits against my shoulders and the outer edge of my front, this shirt has no intention of touching my body any place else. So nice!

Also this week my new rocking chair came in a very heavy box delivered as far as my front door. The word “Heavy” was taped onto the carton. I wrestled it into the house, took off the packaging and proceeded to put the screws in place. As long as I could see the screws, I was fine. But reaching up underneath and gravity working against me, I called MJ for help. She popped over after closing the coffee. wine, mail center, and in no time at all had it all solidly put together.

Now I can sit on the porch and read, rock, and think about whatever crosses my mind. The wood is Eucalyptus, so how could I not buy this chair!

This morning I went to the Mayor’s Garage Sale on the square. Not as many venders as last year and I felt sorry for all those who have to pack up their now twice rejected (by them and the on-lookers) leftovers that they hoped someone would want. I walked around it with one of the guys from the morning coffee gatherings. He found an old wood planer and a dozen pale blue farm fresh eggs. I found nothing.

And then this little cutie on my way back to the car.

Because of weather, the poetry meeting was canceled this past week. I keep writing……here is what I would have read and will when it is rescheduled.

 

The Glass is Clear

 

The glass is clear.

The water inside is not.

A part of what wasn’t

good enough for the page

has been left behind

in the rinse water,

to become dull and uninteresting

in the company of others.

No longer carrying the burden

of an artist’s intention,

each has dissolved into memories

of what could have been.

 

Sandy Webster

I am not sure if anyone ever considers their paint rinsing cups the way I do. So tempting to just collect all the muddied waters to use in some meaningful way.  But I am beyond that now and simply wave as they are poured down the drain.

Til later……

I went to the grocery store this morning, after laundry and vacuuming, and found the perfect red wine for a new neighbor moving in today. She is an artist who prefers Cabernet Sauvignon. This seemed perfect for the tangling up of trying to fit it all in before thinking maybe some of it should never have been moved. I will take it over when the dust clears and her helpers have gone home.

It is getting lighter in the mornings going to the gym.

A new bamboo has been added to my little pond. My yard man and his helper came over to clean up here…clean pond and pull weeds. I had them also move two pots from the garage to out front so I could plant them with shade loving ferns, etc., and place smooth stones around them.

And these past few days have been the basket conference in Tasmania. They posted pictures and I found Jude’s hands working on her coiled neckpieces. So I had to add them to the pages I was working on.

I have been adjusting and sizing the images from the Fairy Book. I do not want to try and make a story of all those fairies but think an introduction page would be fun to write before turning all the pages to find them hidden in the leaves. I like all the figuring that goes into fitting everything just so for a book.

Last night I went to a concert of the Mountain Chorus. Lots of singers in a large church that could handle the crowd and the musicians. I loved the cello player who made my eyes water with his solo. I don’t think I have been to one of these since high school. Music and church were not a part of my upbringing. But it was lovely and we treated ourselves to a margarita, chips and salsa afterwards. A very kind neighbor to ask me to tag along.

There is not much else new going on. Soon my yardman will be tackling the pergola and screen door. I have turned it over to him now.

That glass of wine is waiting.

Til later….

Entry to my place…

Walk over to the gym. It is getting very green.

I did not like the crisp whiteness of the Lethe Book, so gave it some aging with stitch and coffee stains. Then put in some drawings. Seems more inviting now and there is so much latitude granted with murky pages. The feel is better too. Each page after having the coffee mostly washed out, has its own identity and direction it wants to bend in.  I like that I have to force it closed to get it to calm down.

And I added another Philosophical Consideration to the book.

I worked on writing this past week…finished a short story…the one about the reclusive librarian. Another piece of poetry while having my Manhattan and pizza. That bit of solitude at the bar may have to stop until cold weather returns. Too many people out wandering about the area now that the town is filled with flowering trees, pleasant weather and a desire to come out and be sociable. I will retreat to my studio at that time with a single malt and pretzels.

Yesterday a friend took me to see the senior art show at the local college. I loved seeing the use of earth pigments in some of the work, visiting with students and some faculty. An old member of my art group just happened in at the same time and told me she just purchased another of my Earth Pigments books for a class she will be teaching soon. I told her if she was taking students on a hunt to gather, not to overlook the soot gathered in blacksmith vents. Some rich blacks there. Funny how I really don’t miss the processes I went through to get the colors of place. I am so glad that all that equipment from my studio went to a young artist/teacher to be properly used with my gathered grounds from far and near. All things have a season and I have such lovely colors and memories all turned into watercolors easily accessed.  I am using a bit from the France and Italy collection in the Philosophical Considerations book. These pans of color will last forever with the small scale illustrations I use them for.

Hot sun is heating up the back side of the house. So I was thinking of adding an attached awning. Then I did not like how that would look after I received the builder’s images. Not right for my place. The good thing was that the man my builder called to get ideas from turned out to be the fellow who put on the lovely porch we had at our last place. He and I even went on a hike together. Anyway it was very nice to have a chat with him on the phone and getting ideas. It has been a few years and good to know he is still in business and does the porches for my builder.

Here is what I am thinking instead. It will fit across the three living room windows and extend out ten feet. I like the look of it for my aesthetic here behind the house.

I like that it has an electric outlet attachment. It will require footings and labor in the assembly. I have asked my yardman if he could possibly do this. We will have the discussion next week when he returns to do work in the neighborhood and check on my yard.

I am trying very hard not to go to a nursery and buy ferns and potting soil. Not sure how long my resistance will hold out. Everyone warns of the possibility of another frost coming…..but still….

Not much more news…I might start putting the fairy book in order to see how many poems are needed to fill the blank pages to keep double paged images together.

Til later….

For the Tasmanian Basket Gathering ending this weekend.

I bought this small stitched textile, yellow with three Easter-colored bands, to use in the Gathering Book. And since they were meeting this weekend, i pulled it forward and tried to work on it. The colors put me off, my graphite drawing of plant materials they could be using put me off, my stitching put me off, but I added it anyway. I like being with them in spirit when they gather to make baskets and stitch.

Then earlier this week another philosophical consideration occurred to me. It made me snort with its truthfulness.

Anyway with the stitching of cloth and paper, I realized how much I miss doing work like these in another book…..

And speaking of stitching, this is the poem I took to the Poetry reading this week.

 

End of a Long Thread          S. Webster

 

One end of a long thread struggles its way

through my needle and is dragged down

past its own tail to have a spit-filled knot

tied at the bottom.

 

Holding together two pieces of cloth,

or both sides of a tear, I pierce them

coming up from behind.

Then back down and through

a short distance away.

 

In the up and down, out and in,

I find a rhythm, let my mind wander

to all the tears I never mended,

and pieces I should have held together.

 

Yesterday while looking for something else, I found this unfinished little journal that I taught in Australia several years ago. It had to do with marking our personal explorations on the pages and on a complex fold map. The map had sixteen spaces on each side and folded down to fit in the back of the leather journal. I miss the kind of self-exploration that my students were willing to dig into. I miss my own, but think it is more in the writing of poems and short stories now. But this book does call to be handled and drawn into.

As you turn each page over, there is a type of code to remind you of what used to be. All that is left is the fragment that may or may not let you recall. Like the waters that were drunk from the River Lethe in Greek mythology, time causes forgetfulness. And I really like this book. To mark the pages in some way and then fold it over to be wrapped and tied and held makes us think about the comfort taken in just those actions.

There are so many blank pages left to fill and I don’t think it should be left that way….so I am going to thread a needle today and get on with what needs to be remembered.

Til later…..