over the course of any few days, i end up with a little pile of papers with things written on them and when they begin to feel like clutter, i go through them to see if there is anything needing to be saved…if not, i throw them out. a lot of what's on them is from very first thoughts of the days, like i used to do Morning Pages…a left over from those days…now it's just sentences, not even complete thoughts. sometimes words. This morning there was this. I of course know i did this, but really, don't remember why or when. Had to be in the days before Magic and Barbara's Big Day tho. And those days, when i was waiting for Sunday, thoughts were very fragmented. So i looked and saved it here. Threw the actual paper away. Why did I think this? There is some very very hazy vague memory of a dream …?
and because of Liz's post about altering a book, i got to thinking again about whether it matters to me if the human images in the cloths i make seem to be one race or another, well, one, really, i guess, like caucasian…which is me of course, and also they are almost always on unbleached muslin,
and suddenly i remembered the conversation she had with the Navy Recruiter who came to her Alternative High School. She was 17 and graduating and they i guess had a quota to fill and Recruiters hit the Alternative High Schools hard, offering so much including the money for a college education. It was her way of Seperating , of Individuating. No one in this family, her mother's side had any military inclination whatsoever to put it mildly, but she took it. And i remember her telling me as they were filling out the final papers for her to sign the next years of her life away, he handed them to her to proof read. There was one error. Race was checked Hispanic. She corrected him. She was NOT hispanic. She was half Black and half White. And though brown, was Not Hispanic. He kind of just mumbled along and said to just go ahead and sign. She wanted that corrected. and he told her….. "It's ok. just leave it. You can be anything you want to be in your heart". And she said good them. In my heart i am half black and half white. Change it.
so i guess at that point his needed quota of 17 yo girls from single parent Hispanic family dropped a point, but it all went forward.
So.
i thought…what color am I? What race am i, on the inside. what race am i in my heart? The answer was immediate. I am half me and half dirt. I am half and half. Like her, mixed. She actually said that to me once when she was much younger…that i didn't look like a white person…i looked different. so maybe she could see that? Maybe she could see how i am the color of dirt? If anyone would, it would be her.
But then, as i write the above, that face there isn't at all about me. It's about what i let represent the Feminine of All that Is. We can say Gaia. But i also don't really relate totally to that, but really something even more Vague.
So this has brought up a whole different thread. In the meantime….i wanted the Face of It to be at least part brown…earth colored.
a print out. With the grasses as shelter above the oh so small figures below. And as i was fooling with that, i realized maybe i want the Kantha to extend INTO that representative "face". But not in a way that would maybe identify It as any particular race or culture…., just part of the All.
windthread 
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