yesterday i received a package in the mail.
the memory keeper from Kaye Turner
to describe it, i feel like i need some kind of special language, some like, cuneiform shapes to make the letters.
but just have my worn out words…beauty Full, Wonder full …..
it is exquisite
wind has become silk gauze.
i dyed this in glennis' workshop and for me, is a god send. i can draw wind with pencil, graphite, but cloth????? ahhhh. silk gauze.
Jude's words continue to be primary in my day. I didn't ask if i can use them yet, but i will…
here they are anyway:
Jude Hill
Spirit Cloth
May 11, 2010
"Today i have magic on my mind. not just the magic cloth, but magic in general. and i am just thinking about vanishing and
re-appearing and escaping, and transforming and predicting and all that. and it seems to be awfully related to making, making something from nothing. performance and production. a theater of process. this has a lot to do with my choice of focus this year. and my big project the magic cloth and the videos and all that. i just thought i would say that about that. and that has started to effect how i see all my work. as invisibly connected. as disappearing and re-appearing. as changing, and dissolving and being restored. as defying reason, as passing through something. as a performance. as illusion but not lie. as order, re-ordered.
it is frightfully delightful and almost spooky to realize the infinite variations of the way things might seem. and how true they can all be at once."
funny, i read, have read, all manner of things. these words hold the most reality of what i know so far, what i have learned and hope to learn.
about Life, not just cloth, or what i label as Art.
i read them to my daughter tonight, after we had talked long about her life
and
she understood
and applied the truth
to herself
which is about her marriage, her son, her goats
about me, her experience of me as her mother, about her daughter and back, for me, about them
about who i am/am becoming/hope for
have been thinking about cloth weaving while hauling composted manure. One of the most important things is to make
window covers for the ROOM in winter days. Covering the windows is almost painful. But….if it's with something with
meaning… ~
i'd had this photograph in the scanner from another thing. it's from my old days of "doll making"…it is life size, my granddaughter
alyssia at about 3 1/2.
yes.
it's sweet grass, kaite. the first people here, or native americans, or indians, used/use it
braided as a means of blessing. grows along rivers, is woven into braids.
Suzanna…notices the path
and jude…"spooky beauty"…LOVE this
life is spooky
when you allow it to permeate the "filters" we use to keep it , uhhhh, ordinary.
I love that you said this. Gives me permission in a certain way, to talk, maybe, about
the ordinary spooky.
as in
how
no matter where we live
greece, australia, new york, new mexico, oregon, the U.K.
we look up
and there is this moon. same moon, yours, mine. how can this be?
I used to try to explain this to the child that this spookily beautiful "doll" was "made from".
she is now 22 years old and in the United States Navy, stationed in San Diego and has a
son, Julian, who is 6 months old and has just learned to
sit up
on his own
and THAT's spooky.
they are coming next week. and my son who is a chef in the fast lane of Denver. Spookier still.
the great thing is that each of your comments highlights a word or thought for me. i like that. Deb, the concept of interface,
Jennlui the understanding of sacred space and refuge, Kaite understanding that the door, tho "defective" is more important
than a "proper" door, jude, commenting on aliveness with humor Kaye, so responsive to it all
and
Kathy…is it you? the Kathy of my "other life"? and here, we finally meet?
weaving selves together. what did/do i mean?
this is the first time in my lifetime that i have lived alone with the intention of never changing that. There have been spans
of time before, but never this way of wanting a solitary day to day life that can finally be devoted to Art, to Making, to
trying to articulate that interface of the acre "room" outside and the 12X45' shelter. The doors and windows.
What i do outside reflecting what i do inside and inside, outside. weaving them together, stitching layers, of a life that
is not fragmented.
this is my livingroom. funny word.
this is the beginning of the 6th cloth in preparation for beginning the workshops. I have no
idea what will happen.
it is the summer curtain on the door that my daughter, granddaughter and i built together
out of an old screen door.
judes feathers…
weeding here has a different reality from anywhere else i've ever lived. The common
and traditional thing is to have very neat dirt. Things growing few and far between.
The elders had enormous respect for water.
any time there is opportunity, some very common "weeds" go crazy…kochia and a wild
mustard. if let grow, the kochia will become the height of a small tree and i've had to
use a hatchet to cut the stems. I learned that year.
The native grasses that i have re-introduced here are primarily "clump" grasses and
once established, seem to be the best deterent to being overwhelmed.
What i am trying to learn is What purpose does Everything Serve? The kochia, for
instance, is the first to green up in late winter, providing grazing for range livestock.
Birds even. and, chickens LOVE the tiny new plants. The roots also aerate the soil and
hold agains erosion. None of those things I personally need, but i am only small here.
There is a BIG PICTURE in which we are all equal.
Every year at least once, a praying mantis will come in the house. Sometimes i see when
s(he) arrives through the open door, sometimes am startled by the unexpected presence.
I love them.
michele…you have no even tiny piece of earth for planting?
it takes a looooong time to create a sanctuary for things
last year was the first time for a
walking stick
it felt to me like a stigmata, as in a mark of ecstasy
