windthread

peace Full

Finished.  January.   and over into the little Shop.

and SUN came back for a while,  just so much,  behind cloud cover but There and i put the Cloth on the curtain.  Light.  Illumination.  How Light adds to the story.

 

 

a few moments of even more Sun

I went Out to spend some time with the Bucks,  that being the only intention,  but after that i thought i'd see what the compost is doing

Beauty Full and Rich and Snow seeped and Elegant and Fine

as it goes,   one thing leads to another and there is the stick pile,  so

so i worked some on the Hugelkulture berms

 

 

and then i sat for a while.  Just looking.  Thinking about the Mother Pile.  Thinking about if i really needed to flatten Her.   Do I?   Just sitting there,  with no interference,  that pile is slowly sinking into itself,   the home for Who knows.    I know that last summer,  lizards ran in and out.  Small birds were constant.   Maybe i don't need to do Anything at all?   There are so many things that factor in.  And maybe i don't know even Part of them so far.  So i just sat and looked.  Sitting and Looking is very Good.   is  Important.  So i sat and looked.

Tonight.  Sun was strong enough to come through.  Good.  Tomorrow is February.  The month of Who Knows.   so...ok.

 

 

a day that is a place

since first light,  this is this day.  Now almost late day,  this is this day.  Start to finish.  The "air" is thick with moisture.  Sometimes actual rain, but mostly just a moist dense surrounding.  There are very few lights in this house.  None over 60 watts.  There is no electric light in the Room.  So i had to stitch in the morning chair with the aid of the lamp that mimics natural light.  But,  also is dim.  I ate spagetti three times.   Once with sauteed Yellow Hots for breakfast,  then just as is at mid morning then afternoon,  with the addition of a spoon of Sambal  Oelek...the Rooster Stuff ,  hot chilis that my family likes.  And i read.   It began with page 321 in the Anthropology of Turquoise.  The chapter entitled     A Field Guide to Brazen Harlotry    .   She writes about flowers.  Bloom.  Desert Bloom.   I KNOW completely and fully all the blooming she describes.  I cannot tell you what it felt like to read her words.  I can't.   I got up,  off and on and went to the Wall to look at this Cloth,  that is a brazen bloom,  that is from a scrap of a shirt from the Thrift Store that i really don't like but i also Do.   It's orangeness,  it's brazenness,  this print of this cloth of a men's shirt.  I have never really liked it but i am also very attracted to it...the Backside of the cloth....Vicky knows about this from so long ago in one of Jude's online workshops.  I think this is the last time i will use this cloth,  will send the rest to Vicky so i am not tempted.  Working with this cloth is Work.  

So, i read.  She takes me places,  this Ellen Meloy.  I go with her.  I am There.

I have been writing down January.  I write something in the mornings, usually,  on pieces of printer paper.   As i have said before,  i usually throw out these pieces of paper every couple days or so but this month of January,  i have kept them.  They piled up.  Well,  not really,  i don't write much, but just some to get it out of my head.    Here,  from January 25th:   Trying to describe the shift.  a rhythm, a movement of doing,  a steady Ease,  the days last for a whole and complete day, a smooth just going.   the Rock presides.  Sunday, today,  the 3rd night of peaceFULL sleep.  Dreams, but easy ones.  Again,  Basic Goodness.  Neither for nor against.  a rhythmic going.  a sway of going.  Not wanting to Make anything OF it...just experience whatever it brings.  Live it.  As is.

January 29th:  Something is trying to tell me how to live now.  How to Live.  How to be in relationship with the days as they come and go,  one by one one into the next into the next.  How to do this.  What to love, What to honor,  What to hold close What to grow  What to turn under.   What to_____________?  What to notice, What to create from one's imagination, that rises up from the substance of the Place, the goings on, the Cloth, Turquoise, the Rock....talking, telling.  I didn't think to Ask.  But i must have been asking?  Asking with the sleep less ness,  the restles discomfort....things out of focus

Ellen Meloy.  Occupying the similar place that one human woman does, earth under her two womanhuman sized feet...sky overhead,  similar to all of us,  allowed an Expanse in her self in her senses that is beyond Rare and then she wrote it down and then she gifted it to us and then she died in her sleep.             I read her thoughts,  stitch a Plant Spirit in Bloom of cloth scraps in the presence of a Rock in the living room.  Things are talking.  How to live in this NEXT.  OK.

OK.

Like a cloth,  days have components.   The components to these last days have been.....A Cloth i stitch.   A Rock that i have brought Inside because of a Book about Turquoise.   Three things.

Three components.  Seemingly maybe unrelated,  incongruent?  Yet they are  tight.  Close.  Tight.

I have 21 pages left to this book.  Tomorrow morning,  there will be no more.    She's gone.,  this woman.   I don't want her gone.  In the beginning of the book she tells us about her imaginary family the Quigleys.   And to day i think about that.  What if i could have an imaginary friend?  What kind of a friend might that be?  and i thought...HER!....i would have Ellen Meloy as my imaginary friend, dressed in her accidental neon orange bathing suit,  wandering around here with me,  feeding Goats,  putting up with Tay,   staring off to the Rim and scribbling in her notebook.  She would be dead,  so she would not need more than this acre,  unlike in her life she had so much more,  she would be ok with it here and she would tell me how to Live.  Here.  With What Is.  I think she would know that...having Crossed Over.  I like this thought.

 

 

The Sort Of Helping Guy with lead in his balls hung a grocery bag of Arugula and Sunchokes,  Jerusalem Artichokes over the fence and Tay,  being helpful brought it to the porch and she and Chinche ate the sunchokes UP

but not the arugula

 

how things go together

Usually,  one of the layers of cloth extends out from the story on the front.  Always there are three layers.  Whatever is the "story" on the front,  the  inner layer of harem cloth and then the cloth on the back., the other side where the map of the stitching remains.  This particular cloth,  being

WINTER

needed this very particular piece of fabric that was and is so much this Winter Sky.  And that it was a newer fabric,  so not worn or soft,  it so very well talked of that sky.   But also,  it's edges were harder than i am used to.   I'd thought off and on about putting it on a back of a softer cloth but that just wasn't it at all.  Better leave it to stand alone,  hard edged.   But waking this morning there was  "in place" a completely different thought.   And as i began trying to figure out how that could work,   things fell into place.   I have never made a "frame" for a cloth before.  All the edges now are   "finished",  not ragged and frayed so the whole Feel to it is different.  Half way through i took it all back off.  But then put it back on.    Because though it is very different,  it felt Right and i looked for a long time to try to understand Why it felt right.  And realized that tho there are components to Story here,  it is really a  Portrait.  It is a Portrait of this  Spirit of Plants in Winter.  It is a way  to see through Winter,  to see that still there,  within the cold,  within the Winter Sky,  the Spirit of things remain....active and very vital.   So...a portrait of that Ongoing  Living  Energy that is simply  ordinarily Unseen,  only  because it isn't Looked  For  during the Cold Times.  If you Look and  Call to it,  it is There.

I was very absorbed in all this and Tay tried to be patient.

 

 

 

 

I had been eating Fritos today and when i went out to do the Evening Feed,  and was Singing,  they wanted to smell my breath

 

 

Yesterday it was 69 degrees.  Today 56.  Tomorrow it will be 39.  There may be Rain.  How it is here in Winter.  Some of Everything,  and not too much of Anything.  New Mexico.  Perfect.  By Monday it will be WARM again.    Every day now,  i will go Out and close my eyes and Imagine that Spirit Plant,  hovering,  watching over,  waiting,  Knowing.   I have an Image for it now.  It can Hold me well.

 

Good ness

could be more thread beads,  but i think this is enough

 

Spirit of Plant Beings in Winter....she calls Out......

the little lump at the top of the fence,  directly in the middle.   They are all standing, staring.  What?  And it's that feral cat mother,  the mother of the little yellow kitten.  Sitting on the post there,  watching the Goats.  As They watch her.    Does she go into the Albatros at night and hunt mice?  I hope so.   

And in that same magazine as the Wool article yesterday,  the other article about the Winning Burrito with this photograph that i didn't put here, but sent my granddaughter,  but still i am looking so i'll put it here

he could serve me a burrito any time.  yes he could.

 

 

Pizza Day with the old cowboy

and when unloading the week's groceries from the Honda hatchback,  i looked at all the other stuff in there,  a kind of mobile closet and the New Mexico Magazine from October  (old CB subscribes)  caught my eye.   Cover story was about the Best Burritos.  So when in house,  i leafed through and this:

 

 

 

 

notice the Mend

 

 

 

then the Cover Photo for the next article...from the Sandia Wilderness,  overlooking Albuquerque.

NM Mag has lost its Realness over the years and is kind of a Sales Magazine but i liked things about this article on wool.  It  spoke of different workers of wool in NM ,  about a ranch in Tierra Amarilla where 1,000 sheep awaited a  crew for spring shearing.   The crew is from Colorado.  4 men.  2 Morman and 2 Amish and Fig,  an Australian Shepard.  And then,  the one i know most about,  Mora Valley Spinning Mill .  If i were to ever leave this Place,  i would want to go to Mora.  Where there is really Nothing.  But there is a Spinning Mill.  Mora.  

But what i was noticing, when looking at the pictures is the emotion that arises in me about Herds.  Herd Animals.  People and dogs that "work them",  the close bond between human/sheep/dog.  The almost primitive motion of herding, shearing, spinning, weaving.   It's very very Strong to me.  And i am just sitting here as Sun touches that Rim and thinking about it.  How i feel such Love for Herds.  I am glad to feel this love and really,  don't need to "think it through"...i just feel it.  and it's very very Good.  

A LITTLE LATER,  reading the Email thing,  i am aware of the aroma of the Buck Goats rising up delicately from my hands in my lap.   I have been back to giving them peanuts in the shell in the evening,  speaking to them individually,  using their names with each peanut,  in hopes of making it easier to separate them out and load them ,  TenZen and Sonny Ray,  when the day comes soon.  What the fragrance is,  is only from their lips on my fingers as i give the peanut,  a musk.  Buck Goat Musk.  and i think how i don't mind it at all.  How i actually find it good and uhhhh,  good and well,  Real.  It's what they have to Offer in this world.  Their scent.  which they hope will Attract.

Jan the Dog Trainer who will be "using" TenZen soon says she would not Ever keep a buck.  But then,  she NEEDS a buck.  There needs to be a buck somewhere for her to Use.  Yes.  Here.  TenZen.  and then,  Sunny Ray for Kelly.  Who has Magic and Barbara.  Yin/Yang  inseperable.  No matter our  Opinions.  Hmmmm.  

 

 

 

don't know again

Slow Coth is Slow.  Roots take time.  Roots.  Slow.  

the Lizard Turquoise quiet in the small piece of wood from Oregon.   Resting.  Quiet.

Granddaughter hooked me up so i could watch the entire movie....The Mission.  Robert DeNiro and Jeremy Irons.   I don't know why,  but i needed it again.  It's been some years since i watched,  but i love it no less,  no less a single second,  i love this movie.  Maybe the Only one i love,  time and time again.  Why now?  I don't know.  

Those i have come to love on the East Coast of this continent,  they hunker down.  Surrender.  Maybe it's something about Surrender.  What do we surrender to?   Still,  I don't know.

Tay got in the truck this evening.  Many times.  I was unloading the bales of Grass Hay and would pat the shotgun side and finally...she jumped in.  She tasted everything with her tongue,  everything and then left,  but came back.  Again and again.  In Her Time,  she does things.  In Her Time.

a gentle day

change in plan.  More grass hay BeFore the Ethiopia trip

Stuff from the Tins.   Like the I Spy game.   There are so many things i think i don't remember but every single thing in these tins down to the tiniest beads,  i remember.  Remember their Circumstance.

There is an interview on Huffington Post that Paul Raushenbush did with Krista Tippett about her new project called  Civil Conversations Project.org

"a series of podcasts, live events, and online resources for beginning new conversations in public life at every level.   How do we speak the questions we don't know how to ask each other?  Can we find ways to bridge gulfs between us about politics,  morality,  and life itself?   Can we do that even while we continue to disagree passionately?   How technology plays into all this, and how can we shape it?    ......offering ideas and tools for healing our fractured civic spaces."

Many more rootlets.

 

i don't know what to say

to Remind.  This blog is to document days.  Whatever comes.  As is.

Yet, i am hesitant.  Because  others read.   It's not like a personal journal,  but a shared journal.  And i believe that is toward the good of the whole in These Days.  Yet there is hesitation,  because i don't want anything MADE of anything.   Everything is in question.  Everything means Everything and Nothing.

But still.....

I brought in the rock two days ago.

Back in my Other Life,  when i was part owner of a brand new book store in Michigan,  1988/89,  there was SO MUCH.   It was a "new age" book store, sort of.  I thought of it as New because finally we all seemed to be looking at Old,  at Ancient wisdom.  in a new Age.   It was exhilarating to say the least.  SO MUCH to learn from Old Ways.  The Energy was HIGH and MOVING.    All of us who had been through the 60's were FULL of wanting to learn,  wanting to Know.  In its  way,  it was very very Beautiful.  And also in its way,  it was not.  We had books on so many topics:  Feminism,  Homeopathy,  Ancient Cultures,  Native,  or First People ,  Art,  Earth Ecology,  a room devoted to Children with a rocking chair and a Larger Than Life Bear.  Religion,  Science,  Esoteric things.   And we had 

stones.  crystals.  All manner of Things From the Earth.  The person who brought us those things was a wonderful man who traveled the Planet,  gathering.  Sometimes i was the one who was there when he came and i would sit with him and choose.  During that time i brought home to mySelf many incredible things.  And i had access to ALL the books that taught about them.   There was SO MUCH.  And over time,  that became the problem for me.  So Much and moving SO fast and Wanting to Know and Wanting to Know,  Too Much,  Too Fast and it began feeling really crazy.  And that was part of the reason i left that life.  And when i did,  i closed the door on it all. 

Instead,  i watched mountains and walked and lived and carried stones and rocks from one place to another but did not ask anything of them.  Did not want to imagine anything about them.  Just LIVED with them.

Today,  there was the need to find the bead tins.   Maybe they are gone???  I have given so much away.  A LOT of stuff.  And it's just Gone.  And i don't really remember the details of it's Going.  Were they Gone?  I looked in the House.  No.  I looked out in the Albatros.  No.  ok.  That Airstream?

Yup.  Some.  

the two i wanted.  Yes.  There they were.  And also the Sun Oven....which my granddaughter had asked about and i didn't know.  Ok.  

 

these two.  the ones i wanted.

and then also,  these.

This one is the One i was wanting.  Here it was.  To me,  it's a Lizard.  a turquoise lizard.

 

 

 

I went back to google Chrysocolla.

it is the stone of forgiveness, Peace, and the strenthening of emotional bonds.  helps in recovering our natural spontenaeity.   a teaching stone.  it helps older women.  One strange property known since antiquity is its property of encouraging people to stay at home.  It is the stone of monks,  hermits and prisoners.

 

 

 

Un~usual day

Alz. B's son Bill and his wife Nelia will leave for Ethiopia on Monday,  my regular day there...at the request of the Ethiopian Government, to do some kind of geologic scientific thing.  So they wanted me to come today instead since Monday would be hectic.   And then,  the Old Cowboy's NEW SPIFFY Transport Chair arrived at his house and i was going into town anyway to get him his Blue Bunny brand Chocolate Chip icecream that he had totally run out of

So....the day had a life of it's own.  

and there in the grocery store cheap wine area was this,  that caught my eye.  The back lable says:  At the turn of the century His Royal Majesty Rex Goliath was a treasured circus attraction.  Weighing in at 47 lbs  Rex was billed as the World's Largest Rooster.  Our wines are a tribute to Rex's larger than life personality with big fruit forward flavors sure to please.   And so it was that the lable did the trick.   Not tonight,  but tomorrow night we'll see the effect of a circus rooster wine.

At Bill and Nelia's was a note that someone had given them some thing that i might have use for.  On the chair in the little bedroom

this "sleeping bag"...all cotton,  6ft long.

two of these,  she said "saddle covers"...????

an opening in front and back...saddle horn and then something in the Back of a saddle "there" that  must rise up????  The stripes would make me Crazy,  but in both the sleeping bag thing and in these,  there was the feel of being stuffed with fabric or something like it and i imagined all manner of interesting and beauty FULL cloth hidden inside....

but no.

sticking my fingers in the small rip here what was found to be inside was a variety of polyester fabrics.  And in the sleeping bag thing,  through a small worn hole was some kind of similar fibers.  Both are Very Heavy.  And though i thought they might be ok for dog beds,  i reconsidered and Not.  It would take Forever for them to dry from being washed.  So..no.  Not even for this.

 

then this,  a kind of India Import cotton cloth

??????????   Does anyone have an idea?

 

 

 

 

I wanted to come home to the rock.   Do you see the dark crystal at the base of the Chrysocola?  What is that dark crystal  formation?  

This needs to be a post of itself alone.  Maybe tomorrow.

 

 

 

quiet, with roots and later, an addendum

in total contrast with yesterday.   And i can report that TenZen continued to be more frisky than usual.

 

there are enough now.  Just many small rootlets to go

 

 

 

i brought the rock in.  Rinsed it in the kitchen sink.   It is 17 inches by 10 inches.  Very heavy.  All day, has been the central presence in the living room.    It is hard to imagine the Circumstance that created this deep in the earth.   Actually,  impossible, for me.    There is so much that is Unknowable.

It did not snow here.  But the Mountain Rim to the west is white.  Snow in the mountains is Good.  The run off benefits All.

ADDENDUM:

Later,  sitting in the morning chair reading  The Anthropology of Turquoise,  i keep looking up.  Across the maybe 15 ft.  or so to the form on the table there in the living room.  It 's dark now.  There is no light in the living room but the dim glow of the computer screen.   So i look at just a Form.   I find myself going back and forth.  One part of me wants to know the "facts" of this piece of the Earth...the names that we have given the individual parts of the Form.   What Kind? of crystal?  What IS the turquoise substance?  How do we imagine this was Formed?  It is obviously only a fragment from some very larger geode.  How large might the Whole of it have been?  When was it formed???,  How????   Things like this.

But then another part of me just looks.  Just sees the form there.  Sees something Inside here that has probably only always been

OutSide.

What might this be     Like?    To have been brought Inside a Place,  washed in a sink,  set on a wooden table.   

And i realize that anyone i would want to ask these questions of are probably dead.  Long gone.  Maybe a few remain living...but so rare and i don't know how to find them.   And maybe that's ok.  That i had acquired the rock,  it was given to me.  I have had it ever since.  Have had almost a daily awareness of it ever since.  Maybe this is enough.  Maybe i brought it in for just this.  To WONDER about.