windthread

 

 

so….This is the Corridor.   Probably it doesn't make any sence to anyone looking here,  but i want to document it.  August 3, 2014.   Margie's son Robert, Strongman, came and helped me move and unroll two  chunks of fencing.  They are in Place.  In the next days,  i will bring home three 18ft pieces of cattle panel and weave them in.   This is the corridor between the Way Back and the Middle.   a Big Deal. 

 

 

so the Fake fence in the Front House Yard is gone.  Taken down and rolled up.  Done.  Nice.

 

dogs at Way Back Gate.  Just to note size.

 

a person.   Standing.   Under all that is Above,  that comes.   Will come.  Without bidding.  Standing.

 

 

 

 

Maybe it looks like kind of a mess of random pics of Goats.  But, really,  it's not.  It is US.

Us here.  Goat Us and one human.  It's who/what we are.   Happy to have survived the RAIN and happy with the new straw.  a kind of Celebration,  on a small scale.

 

 

Wet.

 

Young Mimosa and Hawk moth/Hummingbird moth…She who gives rise to tomato worms.   How it is.

 

Onday,  the Keeper of Rules and Order knows that there is something i am Withholding.  She tries to use Mind Control to Change Things.   To make me leave the door open.

 

 

the lawn chair changes hands, well, hooves,  throughout the day.   It remains wet.  Cloudy.  

 

tools.  the gates swell with the moisture…the blur in lower right is the assistant, Tay.

 

i go for bedding straw.  2 bales for the does,  one the buck hut  in anticipation of a repeat tonight.  While closing the big gate,  a yearling Spade Foot  boings across and back in by the other gate.  Young,  beautiful,  copper eyed and Tonite's the Night.    The Rim darkens.

 

Over at the Forum for Jude's Considering Weave,  Fiona gave this quote of an interaction between someone and Matisse,  about his work:  "The arm of this woman is much too long".  and he replied,  "Madame,  you are mistaken,  This is not a woman,  this is a painting."

 

how Perfect!   The nineteen Goats,  the Herd….how to do this?  so very very small?….like this.

oh so small scraps and i would say…Madame,  this is not a Goat Herd,  it is a Story Cloth.  I think OK and Yes.   i think it will work.  Looking.  but i think so.

flash

 

i think it might be like how most people do things….looking around,  kinda cruising,  and 

Cleaning 

I DID it.  i washed those windows,  inside at least,  and found the Thrift Shop little curtains…ripped out the hems and still, i'll need to add on some inches on the bottom from other curtains,  but  here they Are.  3 panels.  Nice.  you can't really see them…probably won't ever, it's the West window?  And i cleaned up that whole side of the Room.  Everything vacuumed of that velcro dust,  sorted, winnowed.  Feels really good.   Again…without the weight of the dust,  the vibration is a much higher frequency.  Nice.

 

and because it was still Moist,  not wet, but just moist from last night's storm,  Onday asserted her Standing in the herd and took over the big stump for the entire morning.   The others making do by taking turns in the feed bowls.

 

 

Things wanted to move around.  Tay's Cloth  where the Goat Lady WAS and the Goat Lady onto the Wall in the Room.   This will probably continue for a while until i get used to both of them.

 

Want to make a cloth about the Storms.  I washed it.  The blue is less evident,  but the Stormyness remains strong.

i printed it out and drew,  a woman,  a dog,  some goats…but me being how i am,  i would have to have 2 dogs and 19 goats to be fair and i really don't want to do that…so…will need to express the thought a different way

 

and last but not least,  a girl after my own heart.  She's got me in her….with Just Going….  Not quite One but day care gave her a cold an ear ache and pink eye.  But her spirit is Undaunted.  

 

 

 

 

Music Thursday at the Old Folks Home.     I got there a little late,  the battery on the truck was dead, so changing vehicles around took a little while.   Alz. B's son was there and Alz B.  was sleeping.  Dead Asleep.  So i hauled over a chair and began singing into her skull.  I don't know all the songs so sometimes it's just da daaa da da in stead of words but the melodies are ease to intuit.  So i put my mouth against her temple and sang into her head.  In no time,  without opening her eyes,  she began to sing.   and i realized that what she was doing was 

Scat Singing.

which according to wikipedia is vocal improvisation with wordless vocables,  a difficult technique that requires singers with the ability to sing improvised melodies and rhythms using the voice as an instrument rather than a speaking  medium.   Ella Fitzgerald is considered the greatest scat singer in jazz history.  Alz B might be next.  She did harmony,  she did rhythm,  she kept the beat and kept the temper of the song being sung.  Some old Celtic,  some Johnny Cash,  some Neil Young,  some i don't know,  but she was ON IT.  She HAD IT GOIN.  oh, yes.  until she fell  totally back to sleep for the last two.

and just to be sure because he is going to be gone for two weeks again and she seems somehow more frail,  more thin of spirit,  like they say in chinese medicine and acupuncture,  like the envelope of her heart is thinning…  i had her son check again that all is in place in case she dies in his absence.  Well,  sort of,  but not quite,  but now it's all good.  I am official all around and can go forward with advance directives both at the Old Folks Home and the Funeral Home that will come to retrieve her when she's gone.  I can sign off papers,  identify the body,  agree to advance directives.   So.  All is in place.  It appears that she is going through kidney failure.   And if we  get that far, they will call me and i will go,  and i will sing into her skull a little and then do other things that i have learned to do.  So, we're set.  OK.  and OK.

and early today, before i left i got an email from  Thunder Bay, Ontario.   What a Bright Gift it was…someone who has been reading and decided to respond   "out loud"  because of the reference to the Sorel boots….she too had goats once upon a time and tried to milk before work in the winter in her own snow mobile boots.   And i KNOW Thunder Bay,  on the Canadian side of Lake Superior and near Isle Royale where i used to go because of the Wolves there.   What it felt like to receive word from Thunder Bay….word saying i look at your life, we are sisters.   So all the sometimes concern i have about being boring….i thought….no….if she had a blog and just told things like what was on sale at the grocery store there,  i would BE THERE  for it,  i  would WANT to know…I would LOVE to know…

out of the Blue it was THE DAY to take down the Magic Diaries Cloth and the plastic under it and  expose the windows there,  that are so DIRTY and need to be washed…maybe tomorrow …..or not,  but now i have to SEE them  and all that was on that door counter,  OFF and sorted and given up or not 

and a new order for this While.

just now…Thunder Man again…another STORM.   Last night a huge STORM  so much direct hit lightning and i realized how precarious it all is…how easy it would be for the Elements to Take us Out…easy…but we remain….holding on….so far.

 

so am looking at this cloth.  Someone asked about the blue color and i tried to go back and find that comment but i couldn't.   the Blue color is there sometimes and sometimes not,  depending on the time of day,  the light…    And i look at this cloth which to me is talking about this Monsoon season….the response of the Atmosphere with the Earth……according to its own necessity or maybe even whim?   We can't know.   So we receive.   as Annie Dillard said…we "receive the given with a fierce and pointed will".   Yes.   Lightning is Here now.  Off.  OK.

 

 

 

 

all that is left is her Moon eye.   maybe the most important for last.   But for her,  as a gesture of Claiming her.  a gesture of Willingness,  of commitment.   So.  OK.

 

Thrift Shop.  It was 10 cent Tuesday and so, crowded.  Hot.  Crowded so i gave  up the Hunt quickly upon finding these.   The first,  a pair of SORELS!!!!  and i don't think they were ever worn.  I think they are a boys boot…because they're relative small but wide.  If they were a woman's boot they would be narrower in the toe.   These are roomy.  They will be PERFECT for those cold months,  getting up to light the wood stove,  going out to break ice on the water, feed the Goats.  These boots are probably close to $100….but as it is,  10 cents.

And then this really oh so Great shirt,  a thin thin thin soft soft soft cotton shirt that is an XXXL size and so on me,  the tails go to the knees.   I cut off the collar….debating about the cuffs….but it is perfect for those moments during the dark of night when i wake,  sleeping naked,  and want to spook around for a while.   Covers all that needs to be covered but is so so light…..and a beauty Full pale blue…like the Moon………so when i am Outside,  Moon will recognize me

But……………….Look.   Look what has arrived.   The print from Jane Bregoli.     The print on canvas somehow that she knew was possible

 

and the timing could not be more perfect.   I am at a little of a loss about how to think/feel about the Goats.   and having this here,  having Noelie Houle  and her  best Goat  Anna here,  i  will  find my way.   Noelie was ninety-two when Jane painted this picture.   The original oil painting is 7 FEET X 4 FEET   and privately owned.

and she sent me some cards and postcards of the images from the book and this one that was not in the book but that i love so much…i want to find this Energy that she so much Holds…i need this.

and to make it all that much more of a Celebration of Goodness,  Maria emailed me this photograph from her garden….this bouquet,  which i think is flax,  her hands holding it..uncut,  growing and Alive….

How much better could anything BE?….  i think not any.  This is just a very FINE FINE day….

 

 

 

 

work away day but before i left,  this scrap of seam presented and i looked forward to getting back home and taking it apart.  

 

 

 

 

some response between the cloth, walnut, iron pot and oxidation.   i like it.

 

early this morning.  i like the shapes.

this is James Fortune.  He is my granddaughter's great grandfather.  She has his surname,  Fortune, along with her married name Ortiz.   The tendrils travel far and wide.  Today James Fortune died.  Granddaughter had traveled a month or so ago from California to Michigan to see him.  She says she is his Favorite.  Maybe,  but maybe such a man made all  of them feel they were the Favorite.  Here in New Mexico,  it's called consentida.  The special one.  She grieves.  i don't know any of that part of the family except for her father when he was 19 years old.  The one who impregnated my daughter, Gary.    Gary who died at age 19.   But she does.  they are Family.  and i find self thinking about this tonight.  Family.   How we choose to keep family or not.  She chooses Yes.  And she travels across the country to keep the blood flowing.  She grieves tonight.    I think, tonight.  Her son, Julian,  almost 5 years is with his father in New Jersey.   and with a HUGe  Puerto Rican family there with tons of Aunties.  I don't know any of them either.  Only his father Mike.   so, I think about this too.   

 

a tribe of Harvester Ants has set up housekeeping in this crack in the middle of the walkway.  All day they are BIZZY,  like Bizzy,  bring things.  I read about their underground world they build and think of it,  under the main walkway here.   It's hard to be Care Full not to step on any of them.

 

this one can go now.  Will put into shop.

 

with the encouragement from Michelle,  i worked on the 4th leg.  Wasn't easy.   All the rest just Happened.  but to add that 4th leg…well,  it took all day.  The  Tension needs to be right.  I think this is ok.   Will wait.   Till tomorrow, look again.  but i think it's good.