windthread

yesterday in her comment on the post,  Jan used the words….meaning making. 

meaning Making.  I like this Very Much.  meaning Making.  A lot.  

Early this morning,  i sat in the Morning Chair,  just looking around at things.  At what i have.  House at a Glance.  I can see everything from the Morning Chair, except the bedroom because my back is to that short hallway but it's ok because all there is is a bed and then those utility shelves with….cloth.  One shelf of clothing that i wear.  Nothing worth studying.  So…i'm looking around at what i have,  what has been made by hand,  someone's hand, my hand.  

and what i spent the morning with was this

it's normally on the kitchen counter,  behind the colander of compost,  propped to cover the ripped electrical outlet that i had  taped with duct tape because once the mice were coming in through there.  They don't need to do that anymore,  have made other more convenient points of entry,  but the duct tape is still there,  hence this to hide it.  

I think i made it 21 or 22 years ago.  Right in the beginning of the time with that person i was married to for almost 10 years,  who has been dead for just over 10 years…so…right in the beginning of that when i was still wanting to Believe.  Even so soon,  there were signs.  But i didn't want to look at them.

Anyway…in those days there was NO extra money,  Zero.   I relied on ten cent Tuesday at the Thrift Shop for everything.  Everything.   And i so distinctly remember spending a whole ten cents on this plastic oval picture frame….not knowing what i would use it for,  but oval frames are not that easy to come by.  Still,  an extravagance.  

 

in the middle here,  just above the sheep,  is Alexandra David-Neel.  You can google her.  I love the quickie side bar bio that Wikipedia has:   a Belgian-French explorer, spiritualist, Buddhist, anarchist and writer.    

I had this pic of her,  my total heroine,  stuck in some book.   The others here too,   most from National Geographics along the way

 

 

 

 

I remember the day i made this collage.  I had stopped on the way home from working to buy a small bottle of Elmer's Glue.   The next day i made it.  Meaning Making.  

It's been through a lot.  Pretty worn from daily wear and tear,  how there is just a hole next to my face where his face was but that i tore out finally when he had died and couldn't have a response.  Really, the hole is as good as his face was there.  Maybe more.   

Meaning Making

I'm not finished thinking about it.   Maybe tomorrow morning will be enough.  But i thought if i had to leave here QUICK,  like some do in this world today,  leave Quick,  

if i had to leave Quick,  with only what i could carry,  like say in a back pack.   I think i would take this.  It's been my Friend for a long time,  through a lot.  It tried to tell me things even tho i didn't want to listen.  It was also just Beauty FULL to me and still is.  Just it's Beauty holds so much.  It is of no practical importance,  well,  except to cover the mouse hole,  but not really…but…

it was all i was able to do at that time as far as "meaning making"….my life then did not allow for anything else.  Torn pictures,  glue,  a Ten Cent plastic frame.   

Meaning Making.