windthread

Dee rearranges furniture.  For me…it's rocks and wood. 

there's no use in trying to talk about the frame of mind.  The second i say one thing,  i immediately say….is that true?  and it is either not,  or i am unsure.   

B Garden,  as well as all the space behind it where the rudimentary foundation of what was supposed to be  small house for me was built,   B Garden     is the result of Jenny and a BobCat and Jackhammer.   The space was cut into the Hill.   

Today i worked to make a "terraced" space behind Tazmeena's grave.  More growing space.  For the new Egyptian Walking Onions for now.   it's a slope.   I forgot to bring the Pick tool.   didn't go as imagined,  but it went.   In and out of the fence that surrounds this space and saves it from the Goats i went.   Carrying oak logs.   In time they will become the Earth.  But that's ok.  All i wanna do is to ….   leave word that …..you can.   If you so choose,     you Can …grow food here.  
a lot of it was moving rocks around because as i tried to dig into the Earth,  i was met over and over by granite rocks…because they are the Body of this Hill.   What's a rock and What's a stone?….a rock is the size of your hand or bigger.  A stone can sit in your palm.

and i got lost in that.  rocks and stones….wood….how they can fit together for enough Time.   and I moved this Buddha over there.   At the bottom of everything,  always is the truth of the buddha.  it's so plain.  and so useful.  

two days now,  morning then evening….the first time i was out feeding Goats and suddenly they were overhead…LOW….very low and i was so excited!!!!!…..CROWS!  and called out to them with my best Crow Voice but they swooped lower and i saw they were Turkey Vultures.    They were riding the thermals…so still in their flight,  at ease and some would lite in the tallest of Pines,  wavering there on the thin branches.  They are large birds and i read,  the only birds with a sense of smell.  Yesterday i walked down through the middle of the Oak Forest to the Meadow.   Before that i counted by identity,  each Goat.   Called Puppy and Talkie.  All accounted for.  So i walked down…who can know?,  but nada.    So i think they are just gathering.   Like Crows do in New Mex at season change,  to mark their census,  gather information,  strengthen their identification to community.   Some migrate.  But i think,  if i am understanding correctly,  the ones here are considered Resident.  This pic has 10,   so,  judging by this,   there must be at least 40 in this gathering.  Maybe easily more.   Though they are not pretty beings,  it is still…..very reassuring.  That ritual goes on.  Even tho.  And they have added this Hill to their flight pattern.

back.  into the manila folders.    Slow this time and here.   Took this pic of a printout from back in N Mex,  my beloved printer.  This Cloth went to Peggy McG       it was so much one of a kind   and when i see it today,  i see what i wanted to know,   but had no way to KNOW what i wanted to know.   How it relates to the pieces of the Cloth that is holding my attention today. about the Dreamer and the Dreamed.   i look at the stick.   Salt Cedar.   so so New Mexico.   No salt cedar here.   But maybe,  down at the canal creek,  the river willow?   

today there is such tenderness for All Things.  All of it/them.   even the difficult.

life forms awakening.   The Garden awakens to a garden of its Own.    in the last two days.    What sets this into motion?   What changes allow this,  not…allow,  but OPEN to it?.    Lichen.  Fungus.   Such incredible forms that have LifeStories.   How can i learn how to listen to these?   HOW?    Repeat…what? sets this into motion?   is it the slant of light?….Sun……is it the shortening of the day?  What other things ARE there that i am not at all aware of?,  that tenderly push the emergence?,  the burst of Being

the fiber sisters….Redding and Bella Vista are both home.   Bella Vista is no longer under mandatory Evacuation…just Warning.  Redding….Lifted..   Maybe a week or so before that mandatory evacuation for Redding,   Cheryl of Redding sent these three so delicate packages of Beauty.   She didn't know,  but she DID know,    and sent the Dark Violet Black Hollyhock seeds.  The ones i have always longed for.   SEEDS.   and also,  the small bag of finished blooms.   The accompanying packet of Marigold…so finely arranged….a work of Art in themSelves.   When she emailed of the Evacuation….i thought….how ironic.   But when they arrived back home,   the bull dozer had dozed at the exact rim of their back fence.  CalFire.   The hollyhocks stood.    I await more word from Bella Vista.

behind,   the felted finger puppet Goat from Els.   Els in the Netherlands.   

From.

i receive things.  from   There.    they are now,   Here.     Here and There are connected.  

that quote…..that maybe isn't or is?   or paraphrased?   or maybe it was a dream?   from when i was in Oregon,     

Everything was different.  And nothing had changed but my mind.

i keep thinking it's Anais Nin….does anyone know?   

at the base of one of the tomato pots.  2 of them….this one accidentally knocked over,  not knowing it was there…appearing "overnight".    Studying the pamphlet Mushrooms of California  J. Duane Sept,  i think it is Good.  But i would need to find someone i could "drive" to….mushroom in hand….but i CAN.    This i CAN do.  Mushrooms….in B Garden.  Already i saw a Turkey Tail beginning on the log over next to the Pomegranate Tree.    

Opened to that blank page….thinking of some kind of map,  or diagram.  Sat staring.   Put the pencil to the paper and began the 

HAND.   When i draw these things i have to put my hand or body or face in place,  then i touch my self,  feel myself to try to know how to draw.   I held my hand.   This way.   Because it was the gesture that CAME.    STOP.    STOP.   i'll continue to try to get it right…palm is outward.    Hand is relaxed but firm.   STOP.   

it was the gesture that came from waking to the world this mornng.   Making tea,   opening the  "News".   and even,  beloved NPR…there  was NO GOOD NEWS.      NONE.    Even NPR.    

So much antagonism,  commotion,  adversity,  division.   Which is how it IS now….as we try,  i guess,  try  to make other Ways…but for me…looking at the bag i drag in  the First Post….i asked this morning….What's in that bag?   And the answer was surprising ……Junk.  Crap.  and none of  it mine.   I remembered a book i once had about ritual.  The one that has stayed,  held…when you are caught in some kind on web,  some kind of confusion…unfamiliar….not Yours……to feel.    Where is the strand ,  the fiber….where is it attached to you….often your wrist…it's Under…..that cord…..attached there and  you loosen it,  undo it and hold it Out,  saying…..Here.  I believe this belongs to you.   

so i Uncord.  I hold the fiber out.   Here.  I believe this belongs to you…the world….the Confusion.  Here.   I will continue to Live as best i know how.  I will continue to stay aware of the multiple x a zillion complexities.  But in my Day.  Here.   I will uncord.  I will declare that i belong to this Hill.  To the Trees,  the Mycelium ,  the lizards and skinks,  the bees, birds Goats,  chicken and cat…Dog,  People,  Garden and on and on and on   i declare.   I lift my hand and say STOP.        this junk isn't mine.  i won't haul it anymore.  Done.        STOP.

.

because Typepad will not allow me multipe pics.   This here.   the drawing of me….traveling in the circular,  hauling baggage.

go to the next post,  please.

maybe if i try to DRAW what's  going on?   i might be surprised.

am also still very much here.   Continues to be on cloth Wall.  I look at it much of any day….sometimes closely,  a lot of the time just a kind of gazing.  I want to keep these scraps together just like this but i also for some reason don't want to stitch them down.  or…maybe don't want to stitch them onto a base cloth?     which would then separate them from the rest of the Installation?   and i need it all just like this until  ~something happens~  maybe    i do the drawing.   Which would go here with them.   

Maybe i like all this because it's avoidance.  

it was a glorious day.   there were MANY MANY  Bees     Tonight i'll close the window above the bed and behind me here at this Everything Table.  Will still leave just the screen door….it was 52 degrees last night.   It's always hard this time of year,  the closing up.., separating inside from outside.  having to wear clothes.