News

Back on the river…practicing my social skills. Two women coming toward me stop. One asked me if she knew me because I looked familiar. I gave her my name and she said, no, must be someone else. Before they moved on I asked her name. She gave it and I said that now we know each other. She found that funny. And of course, by now, we have both forgotten. But for me it was another big step to talk to someone.

Poor trees…reaching out, waving all their new leaves…it gets to be too much! The river is very high and more trees may just give in to the wet and topple in.

And then the things I couldn’t help bring back home. Goose feather and “Tennessee Toothpicks” that are really the centers of tulip poplar blooms.

They mow a path from my new place over to the soccer fields and gym I go to.

When I checked the house Thursday only this black pipe seemed new in the building process.

The builder says August 15 is a good date to move in…..but “Don’t hold me to it.”      I won’t.

After the inspection last week and what looks like a sure sale of the house, I started packing up more.

There was little to no sadness taking the things down and packing them in boxes. It is time to start again. Some pieces were very, very dusty! I will have to get someone, a tall someone, to come and climb a ladder to hand down the rest. This piece I found in the entry was pretty packed with dust. I took a damp paper towel to get a good look at it.

I bought a large gourd, drew on it, then covered the drawing with basswood inner bark that I had stripped to make cordage and baskets in the eighties. Then I burned in designs on the basswood strips. Next other dried plant fibers and cornhusks after making a clay face and coiled hat.

Finished off with coconut and clay beads from Africa that my irresistible importer tempted me with. All together, The Gourd Woman makes a nice rattly chatter when handled.

So she will come along with me as a reminder of those days when I loved the natural fibers of the basket making world.

There is a large carton, never unpacked, down in the storage room. It will go back north when the U Haul truck goes with all that the kids and Marla are taking home. This morning on our weekly call, they wanted to know what was in it. So I looked.

A frame Lee made fallen away from its painting and a watercolor copy someone, his mother or aunt did.

A painting of a barn I did in 1981. Wallpaper across the back kept the frame attached.

Crewel work I did when the kids were very young. I liked drawing with yarn back then….or they more likely are my mothers because she loved doing these on visits.

Puzzles, lincoln logs, leggos, clay blocks, and those sticks and wheels with holes (I forgot what they are called).

Patrick’s wood carving signed and dated on the back when he was twelve years old.

Another water color copy to make a pair and another pair of Godey girl prints, nicely framed and from Lee’s side of the family.

All of it goes north and between the three of them, it will be taken care of.

Why do we keep things that we really would not want. It must be that someone in the family made it. These things are the physical evidence of what they loved doing. Are we supposed to keep these unopened boxes forever? Drag them from house to house only to stuff them into basements and attics? No, they are not coming with me on this next trip. There is just enough space for the things I love looking at, touching, reading, caressing…..And later on my children will have to deal with every one of those things. Just not now.

Til later…

 

 

Walking over to the new house the past couple of days have had good results. I have met more new neighbors including the man next door who moved in three weeks ago, and two women who were most welcoming. The heat and air ducts have advanced a bit and the electrician will likely be there today. Talked with my builder and he says likely mid August for a move in date.

Even the meadow grasses are adding new interesting things to catch my eye.

I have spent quite a bit of the day with the two realtors involved, new owners and the house inspector. He is still here now going over the shop and apartment. He arrived at eight o’clock this morning. A most pleasant fellow. I promised the new owners that I would quit feeding the deer as of now. They are planning on doing lots of gardening and the deer have eaten so much of the plantings the yard man has put in. I just kept doing the early dawn feedings because it was something Lee and I always did. Time to stop and let them go elsewhere for handouts.

Since I do not have to worry so much about showing the house, I have begun to address the things on walls and shelves. The first to get down was the long African textile that hung in the stairwell. I bought it from a textile author and importer who came to textile forums in Australia. I just had to have it because I had never seen one this long….a Kuba skirt length from Zaire. At the time Australian dollars were somewhat depressed so he was offering very good prices in sympathy with the economy of the time. It even became a better deal when I offered US dollars in cash which were much better for him to use internationally. It has hung in every home since.

I had to get help to take it down so I could unstitch it from the stained and framed cloth.

Then the unpicking of stitches….

Then a quick rinse to remove dust before hanging out on the deck to dry.

I have pressed all nine plus feet of it and rolled it onto a 2″ carved wooden dowel to move to the new house and fill a wall at the end of a hallway.

Now I have something to talk about that hit me as just plain wrong…not school shootings, not the pathetic ignorance we suffer from, but something else.

A few weeks ago I was asked along with about twenty others to send images of my shifu works for a new book that would be coming out about shifu threads in artwork. Because I was busy with house matters, I neglected to get onto it immediately. And of course I looked up the author requesting images of the works. The other day I had time to send pictures and hoped I was not too late in submitting them for her book.

Within two days here was her response:

“Hi Sandy,

Thanks so much for the photos of your lovely artwork! Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure I won’t be pursuing a book on this topic. The artists I’ve contacted all have beautiful pieces, but everyone has chosen to work with neutral colors and the book would be too monochromatic to garner attention from potential readers.”

I was dumbfounded and wrote back that I found that the most bizarre reason not to pursue publishing a book that I had ever heard!

Her response:

 “I know. Wish it were different. This would be my 5^th book so I know what publishers like and don’t like. Sigh.”

Good grief! It is not colorful enough to warrant being published! Thank goodness these shallow requirements did not apply when Susan Byrd published the definitive book on shifu, A Song of Praise for Shifu. 

I am not sure I would be interested in purchasing a book that only existed because of it’s brightly colored images and not the information it might offer the reader. If this were a true criteria for publication there would be very few books on drawing, printmaking and many other arts and crafts that do not rely on color for the recognition they receive.

Pathetic!

Til later…..