windthread

number One september SUNday

this morning's Light was exceptional.  Some of the colors here are not quite True....the dark ness of the left Storm Sky,  the scrap just under the face of the being...they are darker...but for the rest,  finally,  it is as it is to the naked eye.  Naked eye.  like those words...naked eye.

 

just over to the right on the Wall,  still hanging,  this,  and how beauty Full it was in this true light.

 

 

as was the array of Rust on the Dye Table

so i went off to fill in for one of the care givers who was filling in already for the other care giver.  

care  giving

not pleasant.  and coming home to the "celebratory" sound of Classic Rock from my across the road neighbor Margie's son's truck radio blaring Classic Rock because that's what we do in this country,  the U S of A or Amerika as we referred to it in the 60's.....it's Labor Day.  a Federal holiday celebrating Work,  how funny,  but people take a 3 day weekend as a time to play music of their preference very loud and indulge in things.  I love my neighbor Margie's son,  Robert Jr.  or Strong Man as he is called in the family.  I love him a lot.  He comes every weekend to hang with his mother and the 2 year old son he has here in the hood.  He's a good son and a good enough dad.  So i hum along with the tunes as i hang out this eve with the Goats.  They don't mind,  don't have an opinion.

 

and i'm back to this.   I'd gotten it in preparation for Alz B's death.  It will be one year ago this month that she finally jumped.   After that,  i'd quit reading.  But here we are again and i am beginning from the beginning.  

unless you have a propensity for Tibetan Buddhism or a very Open mind,  it's probably not the book for you.  In its way,  it is extreme.   But if you follow along,  no matter your "position",  i really believe you can't go wrong...it is comprehensive beyond comprehensive.  In the introduction it says:

"Death is one of the most precious experiences in life.  It is literally a once~in~a~lifetime opportunity.  The karma that brought us into this life is exhausted,  leaving a  temporarily clean slate,  and the karma that will propel us into our next life has not yet crystallized.  This leaves us in a unique "no man's land" ,   a netherworld the Tibetans call  "bardo",  where all kinds of miraculous possibilities can materialize."

 

Gifts

the turtle rock has changed a lot this year...it's "shell" is steadily eroding away.  Here,  it holds down the lid of the big enamel walnut pot

 

 

garlic chives

 

 

 

6 blossom pods on the Datura that i tried to eradicate

 

Caroline

 

clearly requesting a moment to Share Breath

 

tomatoes that simply Are.  that simply stay the same.    this has never happened before.

 

On Jude's Spirit Cloth blog today,  she said this:

"....sometimes simply being right where you are is so beautyful and a simple going is, becomes, the path itself.  And you feel joy."

and a comment from Geri deGruy repeated those words.....i clicked her name

Geri deGruy   you can google her,  or geridegruy.com/blog   her 9~1~15  Post  met me there........... Were All Going to Die   and i was so incredibly grateful for her words there....nothing dramatic,  simply very thought FULL and Honest wonderings and also no apologies for the subject matter.  

I think about the Old Cowboy really, all the time.  He is just in my mind.  Day and Night.  I watch as he goes back and forth from trying  to giving up.  Yesterday he was softly quiet.  Some small exchanges,  but quiet and small.   He is at the threshhold and there is no option to go back,  to change anything,  yet he also cannot go forward.  He is in a limbo world.  

I watch.  and think how for so long now,  years,  he has said he is not afraid of dying,  how he wanted to die in his own home and he held me to the promise to ensure that.  Little did we know that dying is such a phenomenon that has its own timing that no one can understand.  Off and on his Mind goes and he is not Present.  But then he returns,  like yesterday,  asking me how the economy is going.   Spiritually, he is,  as he always has been,  a blank.   He had and still has no interest or capacity to Imagine.  So he spends day after day at the Threshhold,  empty but for his nightmares and worries about money.  As i watch this,  really, Experience this with him,  i of course think of my self.  What will i have?,  when reaching a point when my physical body is in charge?   I say he has not done his homework.  I imagine my self as having done and doing the home work...but what if  i Have, and yet my physical body continues?  It was so, too,  for Alz B.    I have no answers.  None.

But somehow reading Jude's words....referencing Joy  and then finding and being so grateful for Geri's honesty....I thought that maybe,  at that Time,  remembering one's Joys might be useful.  That somehow those Joys might allow the Flight.  I do have some kind of sureness that we come back,  to Begin Again.  So maybe these Joys would help in faith that we can continue to Become.  ?????   

So maybe it's just to comfort self in these days that weigh heavy,  maybe just that.  Or whatever.  But it occured to me to stitch up a knapsack.  The image that came to mind was of the Rider Waite image of the Fool Card*.   The figure with the knapsack on a stick over the shoulder,  accompanied by the dog,  blithly stepping to the edge of the precipice....one more step away...............  *Tarot

 

and i think i will.  stitch this knapsack.  and begin putting Joys in it.  Most likely just the small drawings i make.  maybe a word or two?  maybe very small scraps of cloth that i love?  just uhhhh,  hmmm,  what is the word i want?,  maybe just keys that can set full imaging free??  and if i find myself at that point where i don't seem to be able to go forward,  maybe this will help.  In case i end up not being able to remember i did this,  i will tell the granddaughter Alyssia about the knapsack.

as i lie on my back on the futon couch this afternoon,  intending to take a short nap,  i found my self with my hands on my stomach...feeling the soft roundness of it....and i think i want to make the knapsack the size that can cover this space.  It will need to be soft.   have a drawstring.  easily opened so i can just put a hand inside and pull a Joy out,  to look at.  Maybe Remember.  Maybe just Wonder about.

I like this.

 

a small piece of paper in that sack might say:  Shelter Cloth and i might remember this cloth that i am so so Loving....

Can you see at the top,  under the Storm Sky,  the oh so so vague blue on the left and the sun color on the right?

 

these colors are with Inktense.  they are absolutely exactly what i had hoped they might be.

This Cloth is a Joy.

 

                                                              and now,  just at Dusk

 

what might i put in the knapsack for THIS?????? 

 

 

 

some kind of listening, which is really sensing, an openness, a willingness

morning face after up and down night,  dreams of Elephants,  worry re Old Cowboy stuff,  unable to keep from clicking on the "news ap" at 2 am to see how the immigrants are faring.....

 

Ready.  Harem cloth in middle,  the back,  the walnut saddened blue,  which is perfect.

Something is shifting with this Cloth....some kind of letting go to the Cloth its self,  to how the cloth fragments can tell the "story",  that is mutually mine and theirs.  Mutually being the key

 

Heart

failed faces

 

some times,  just takes a lot of looking.  Storm sky has moved UP to where it belongs

 

i wanted to take her totally away.  But that would not be Right.  I wanted then to cover her UP,  but no,  that would not be right.

all day.

then,  just some simple lines.  This is Good.  yes.  ok.

Brain Pickings,  Maria Popova   Google it

Grace Paley on Aging

Paley writes:

My father had decided to teach me to grow old.  I said OK.

My father wanted to begin as soon as possible.  [...]

Please sit down, he said.  Be patient.

The main thing is this....when you get up in the morning, you must take your heart in your two hands.  You must do this every morning.

This is a metaphor, right?

Metaphor? NO, no, you can do this.  In the morning do a few little exercises for the joints, not too much.  Then put your hands like a cup over and under the heart.  Under the breast.  He said tactfully,  it's probably easier if you are a man.  Then talk softly, don't yell.  Under your ribs, push a little.  When you wake up you must do this massage.  I mean pat,  stroke a little,  don't be ashamed.  Very likely no one will be watching.  Then you must talk to your heart.

Talk?  What?

Say anything,  but be respectful.  Say...maybe say,  Heart,  little Heart,  beat softly but never forget your job,  the blood.  You can whisper, also,  Remember, remember"

 

 

 

 

what is face. How is face shared...interspecies...eyes nostrils mouth.

 

 

on printer paper...Early morning....wanting to See..................

 

 

 

 

 

Face on cloth.  Does it change?  or does it not?  according to what is Near it?   Does my face change, or does it not according to what is near it....?

 

 

true face

they have separated the calves from the mothers over the ditch bank.  There is Great Noise,  the callings,  the response...sets the tone

so...True Face.  Cloth, Shelter.   Shelter from WHAT?  

 

the pixie face is covered over.  NO pixie face.   What IS it i am looking for,  i say it's an older face,  but really,  what is it i am wanting with Faces?  I think what i need to do,  to know is what that face i want is FEELING?  Do I need to know this First? .... the Feeling?  Maybe

Identify the Feeling,  give it words?????

THEN,  maybe the face can come?????

But for sure,  not a pixie face.   

Is this about ME?    about my own True Face?  ,   for sure,  NOT a pixie face,  this face of mine.

 

Green Tara on my wall