windthread

this photograph is a complete surprise.   I   Saw   nothing like this…..the odd lighting,  the emphasis on certain details

it somehow illustrates for me this sense of how things are in this time.  a time that seems as if i am doing 

nothing

but i continue.   doing nothing.  

nothing…..meaning…..making.

because i am doing nothing,  i am doing all kinds of things…i sorted through the cupboard under the refrigerator,  throwing things out and setting  some  aside to take back down to the storage tubs.   going through all the STUFF in that back room,  same.   Sweeping the webs.   moving saved  mailing containers,  packing materials OUT.  more webs.    Packing up all the laundry.  I'll go on Wednesday.   Watering and Care of B Garden.   Watching Goats behaviors at being let in to Campsite A,  the gate tied open….when do they go,  how often,  how long do they stay.   Who leads the decisions.    Cooking.   

but i think this evening that i AM,  making…..it's redefining,  reconfiguring,  re  re.   re seeing.   it's the 77th year.

a life that is full.   and i still say….nothing.   because i am not making.   

and then,  there is this pic.   

 

 

that walk…was originally for….going to the Yellow.    Emrie's favorite color.    We put our faces into the Yellow.   the fragrance is indescribable.  Soft.  Strong.  powdery. molecules.  spell binding.      just   YELLOW.    Bees.   

Spanish Broom.   Invasive.   I read that it's close to impossible to eradicate.    Yet they say we should.  Eradicate.   

YELLOW

and i think always.   Anglo  we are called in N Mex.   Invasives.   By the invasive spaniards.   

for any indigenous peoples,   we are Invasives.  Almost impossible to eradicate.   

tomorrow night,  Blood Moon.   Emrie reminds by phone.   

we walk the canal/creek road.  Three friends.   Not a dog,  a child,  an old woman,  but Three Friends.

 

 

She calls out   Snake   and stops in her tracks as she's been taught.   All our walks are with the reminder that the land belongs to the snakes this time of year.   We stay on paths.  The rest of it all belongs to them.  How she saw,  i can't imagine.  So small.  The size of a garden worm but at least twice as long.  Red.  The red of my Carnelian.    a new born.   At first i thought Red Racer but then…maybe  Sharp Tailed.  They moved quickly to stones on the side and hid their head,  remaining so still  and i love how the end  wrapped around two twigs.   We squatted a long time.

She will be Five soon.   

Maria Tatrai    Sacred Geometry

i wish i had the kind of mind that understood this Geometry…that understands physics….mathematics.   I don't.

i understand that sacred geometry,  physics and mathematics are Present in EVERY THING,   or ARE Everything….

i accept the truth of that…but i really have no understanding of how it Works,  how it keeps everything Alive and in Motion.

Maybe next life.   For now…i have Wonder and love the Beauty of it.

just as you come in to Carefree Way.   Why hadn't i  noticed them before ?   ….their color being  bright…?    oak galls.

i'll check for an exit hole and if there is ,  will bring them up to that old cast iron pot,  tie some cloth and see what happens.   if there isn't,  just wait.

 

 

the first Manzanita i saw was in Oregon.   And like here,  on this Hill,   a small tree.   Old.  But small.   Here,  in comparison to the Oaks that prevail,  the Pine.   

Not yesterday.  as if a different world.   the word….Biome.

Emrie was here,  so there was that but in the under current,   images of yesterday….that Forest.    and tonight…Surreal.

the remembering,  the re~seeing.   I NEED more.   To understand EARTH.    the really true Magnificence  of it.   If for nothing else than to say…..I saw.   I felt.   

 

we all met at the Visitors Center.  It's about 5 minutes from this Hill,  just across and to the end of Miner's Ranch Road.    The Center itself was closed so we walked the Trail,  carrying our box of Vietnamese food till we found a place and sat.   Eating.  And then walked again until we got to this view of the spillway….Oro Dam.    

Only 5 minutes away,  but an entirely different biome.  Manzanita.   a Manzanita Forest.   How old are these Manzanita trees here?   i need to learn this.  There is pine.  But no Oak there.   Completely different than here.  5 minutes.    i need to go back.  Learn.

 

Jeff.  my grandson.   Widower of T.   Age 32.  Father of Brinley.   T  died in November.   6 months.  First Mother's Day after.    So we were calling it Family Day.   Happy Family Day we said.

because it's so GLORIOUS…..in just 3 more days.    How so totally amazing,   a  body's ability to heal.

at Garden today,  i thought….I need compost.   Like,   me.    i need to give self compost.    and so…

for now,  it will be  The Work That Reconnects .org   based in the teachings of Joanna Macy.  Specifically,  to start,   Deep Times  A Journal of the Work That Reconnects.   

"Honoring Our Pain for the World.   In owning and honoring our pain for the world and daring to experience it,  we learn the true meaning of compassion: to "suffer with".   We begin to know the immensity of our heart-mind .  What had isolated us in private anguish now opens outward and delivers us into the wider reaches of our inter-existence."

this is where i'll stay through the remainder of this 77th year.

reaching some point this morning.     i sat with the Carnelian.

i had told self yesterday that today for sure,  i would begin a new Cloth.   I would commit to at least looking through the 13 XLARGE bags for a scrap  to Begin.  At least.    After all,   this blog is about cloth making,  right?   and Journaling the life wherein cloth making occurs.   Cloth making being the center.  Should.    

but it's not there right now.  right now i am simply totally content staring across the vast expanse of the  maybe 10 feet of this place i live to that vertical panel with the Temple of Sun and Sky,  the Intelligence of the Universe,  the triangle moon.   I have no true urge to make.   

so i reached the point of asking self why that might be?   i am not sure how much of this is really what it is,  but it's what i have and what it is 

is that there is just so much that is weighing HEAVY …..this world that Humanity is hell bent on creating…and yes….there are many beautiful things but right now the balance feels so OFF.   I feel like i need to just stand.  and look at the heaviness and not feel any need to move to the SunnySide.   Just feel it.  Allow it.  Not turn away.  and if i can,  write about that.  On this Cloth blog. or this whatever it is place,   the only option is to just quit entirely for however long,   it's tempting,  but also,  i don't think it's the answer.

so i look.   i read about 2 teenage girls leaving Ukraine,  where their mother will stay,  traveling alone,  how they know the danger of that,  but they go.   i was brought to tears by serendipitously circling back to a long standing love of Homeboy Industries  and then the UTube   Richard Cabral Lo Maximo 2013   His brilliance and beauty and how this country of America would have WASTED him,  can and does WASTE lives of such VALUE,   and then so much about the experience of women now of child bearing age facing what they face.    Remembering the two abortions of my own,  one at 19 in an abandoned house in Detroit and another at 30 something…Planned Parenthood.  And thinking again about Emrie's beginning,   where there was CHOICE.  

and i don't want to turn away from these things because i feel i need to put interesting and pretty things here.   

i began to listen to today's episode of On Being.   Sylvia Boorstein.    Got as far as her talking about her childhood lamenting of unhappiness….her Grandmother's teaching…."Where is it written that you're supposed to be happy all the time?"

 

and i was getting dog food and Talkie's meal worms and wondering what i could do and 

it said

draw something    and that thought was relief.  released something.   the drawing doesn't need to be anything.  Just marks on paper.  and i exhaled.