where there was two trucks and a car, now space. and it somehow looks so much larger than ever before. Chinche was/is sad with Owen's leaving.
and over at Sprit Cloth, Jude said today:
" A storyteller can keep a good idea alive. Encourage its becoming".
And this is just exactly it. Am still in re-play mode with my VISIT. tomorrow when i can be home all day, it might settle . but it might take longer, too. it was a LOT. But i read Jude's words and thought, Yes. Yes. And i thought..yes. We told eachother stories. Owen, Rory, Zarina and me. We told stories of our lives. that's how we told Who and What we are, by telling stories. it was the form of the Exchange. and by doing this, i am now a part of their stories as they are a part of mine. As we all go On, we will tell this WeavingIn too, how it was.
and the stories are so beautifully what they are. When Owen was packing and repacking his belongings in his truck, which included two large tubs of Stuff he realized he no longer wanted, among it all was a fan. the fan kept making me smile as it went into the truck and out. back in. this morning as he was ready to go out of the gate, i said...so....what's the deal with that fan? and he said he really didn't know. Did i want it? and i said no, but then remembered, and asked if it was an oscillating fan and if that function worked. Yes it was and yes it worked. so i said...ok. mine doesn't oscillate anymore and i miss the sound. So he handed it to me and looked directly in my face and said, " Think of me every time you hear the sound." and i am thinking about that thread of the Story right now, as Sun heads for the Rim. How i will forevermore think of Owen when the fan sings it's movement right to left. It's woven in. It's part of my story now, that Giving. Part of his. How he brought along a fan just because and gave it to an old Goat woman who fed him spagetti.
Nice, huh.
