« December 2015 | Main | February 2016 »
after long looking, have stitched the sail and the boat itself down. As is. Boat is so abstract and i don't know why. But when i considered changing it, the answer is No. so, a Mystery. Harem cloth is pinned, muslin backing drying on the back of a chair. In the "far" distance at the left, have begun cautiously using the Intense pencils as the gold/orange Sun Light. I love how with water they seep into and Become the cloth.
I didn't tell the whole truth about how she came here., coming in the gate.
At the time there was still Tulip, Ramon and Lily. It was not long since Como Tu and Markey were murdered by a Malmute that was visiting next door. And as i said, I'd just brought home one of the Daughter's pups, Ynona, because she couldn't take her on the move back to Michigan.
All these. Little dogs, that I don't really love although I did love them, individually.
So Chinche lived down the road in a vacant area. A weed dog. She was maybe a few months old. Young. I know nothing more before her appearance there. Everytime I went in or out the gate to the truck, she would come out of the weeds, come in this direction. And as is done in the barrios of N Mex, to indicate...Go Away...whether it's animals or humans, you throw a stone.
Over and over i threw a stone, yelled, Go AWAY! and she would run back and watch me from the weeds. But again and again she came.
I told the other part about how Ynona didn't make it and i left the gate open. I gave up because I was just too sad from many things. And that was how it began. She came. I was burying Ynona and the maniac called to me...."Go, look at your dog" indicating in the direction of the house with his chin as is the way in N Mex. I came in, looked around and then saw on the bed, her head on the pillow, that small black and white form, ears straight up. "Chinche" he said. Bedbug in spanish. She became my dog. He liked the little ones. And all along, these 16, 17 years she has remained wary of anything different, shy. But she trusted her best bet. It worked out. Chinche. She was Courageous.
I read how people chose a word to flag an intention in the New Year. I have never done that, but if i did, this year, the world would be Trust. Trust the innate Intelligence that prevails. The innate Order. As Chogyam Trungpa calls it, Basic Goodness. Things take care of Themselves. Trust this. It's OK.
an entire day of it. and even things like collecting dog shit into a plastic bag was JOY.
Early, before dawn, i Understood this. The little Cloth thing that has hung on the Morning Chair Lamp for years... that i'd made during one of Jude's online classes, i think Cloth to Cloth? But this morning suddenly it had a Place.
on Tay's Art...her repurposed basket Shield. And i was awed by how long some things take to find Form and how Waiting allows that, Allows that.
i distracted self with that cloth weave that i'd put on the pillow...moved it to the South facing curtain. Morning SUN when we have it comes strong here and the Monitor screen has a glare, color is distorted, so a cloth on the curtain. Today i changed it and put this.
i made this. It is so so good on Everything. Omlets, macaroni and cheese.
these, the most. Maybe tomorrow.
Looking this morning, i knew i wanted to keep the shape of this as is. How.
I printed the pic then ripped it out and glued it on another paper. Drew. This way. Hung by threads from a stick. yes.
Chinche continues. a few hours ago she began making sounds. Sounds like dogs make when they are dreaming. Tay attends her. Lies in front of her, sometimes nose to nose. Her breathing as i write this is labored. It is my understanding of the Buddhist teachings that we need to LIVE our deaths. I could call the Vet, but not really, because it's the weekend. I could load her into the car and drive her 70 miles to the weekend vet and have her euthanized, a word for killed. Who would that be FOR?, i am thinking. Her? She is dying. Me? because i love her. US ? or
do we just go. do we go Through it. Death.
I have been in attendance to Death. The Ex husband who fought it to the end, Alz B who denied it, Old Cowboy who was so afraid. More. But i learn from them all, for my own Death which will come and i am learning most from Chinche, who makes small sounds because she IS.
Urge: strong desire, impulse, wish, need, compulsion, longing, yearning, hankering, craving, appetite, hunger, thirst, yen, itch Which of these definitions ? i guess strong desire
the Urge for Distraction. Day is gray (e?) but with sudden so short lived bursts of Sunlight then grey. a nothing kind of greyness. a Wetness. a flatness. The snow has almost all melted into mud. Chinche remains completely still. She has not moved. Not at all. Only her eyelids. Tay is restless. Wants to be OutSide but there is no even semi dry place to lay and chew a stick. She wants me to go Out and Do something, anything, but i don't.
I stitch.
it has to be flat for this stitching, it's kind of a sheeting, this cotton, not easy to stitch, so i use an old drawing board on my lap, keep it flat. It's awkward. But it goes. Invisible baste, of Jude Hill, Spirit Cloth, which is no longer a "baste" for me, but a compositional Stitch. Basting down all the dominant folds and lines, leaving short ones for how it can go later.
Stitch, Stitch, Stitch
and
Think, think, think. And in a certain way, it's a Perfect day because of the horribly strong urge for DISTRACTION of ANY KIND but there being none and i am watching closely because i Could Cause a distraction, like suddenly need to run into town real quick for something, or a phone call or or or but i don't. I just observe self having this really uncomfortable URGE and how it manifests as thoughts......thoughts that come and go so swiftly, never even being completed, just arising with a few images and forms, or, really, even less than a few, maybe just one sometimes, and then immediately dissolving into the next one, how amazing it is that there seems to be a limitless line of them ready, one after the other, limitless, just fragments and i see how meaningless they really Are, thoughts....Why do i HAVE them? What purpose do they Serve?
So i breathe and stitch. At the "end of the day", which means around Sun set for me right now, i picked up the Cloth and a zing of Thrill went through me....how the stitches have CHANGED the cloth, how it suddenly has an entirely different character, how it is so completely a Different Thing than it was in the beginning, so i feel a small sense of having been Distracted by this sensation. I feed Goats, feed Tay, Tazmeena. Feed self. Sit with Chinche a while. and find self looking forward to tomorrow, what will happen with the Cloth tomorrow.
on the back of the futon in late late afternoon Sun
and i DID drink flowers. Taking Root...you can google that..from Cynthia from the wild lands of Vermont. Breathe Deep tea. Hawthorn, Spearmint, Hyssop, Elderflower, Eucalyptus, Fennel, Calendula and Peppermint organically grown or ethically wild harvested
SUN. The first day of SUN in almost 2 weeks, how it changes everything for me, for Goats. We can DO this!
the JOY in morning Light!
on the curtain, catching the Tilt
Sailing East into Rising Sun
i saw this morning that it was upside down
it became right.
began stitching down the wrinkles and folds, the complex nature of what it is
Chinche remains. and again, the 108 Hanuman Chalisas
there was SUN for one hour and twelve minutes.
She is not gone yet. She has not moved since this time yesterday. Except for almost imperceptably lifting her head when i am near her. Each time i pass her i squat to caress her. Tay is subdued. I wouldn't call her sad, but rather just in response to Death in the house. And though we are both, subdued, we go on with the ordinary things of a day. I went into town and mailed things, got all i will need until next Monday.
Home, i went to Michelles blog and all day the 108 Hanuman Chalisas filled this home. Thank you, Michelle. Some how it was very right.
Last night it snowed again. All the paths that i had shoveled were covered but today was warm enough so much melted. But it is a very soggy soggy world Out There. The wood pile is wet. Will need to bring in wood to dry it before attempting to Use it for warmth.
And again....just these small scraps
they have become a little ship....a little ship that is either a being or the life that the being has sailed through....us or our life and i am thinking so many thoughts...what is the difference between Us and our Lives? is that One thing?, and we always wish the dying an easy passage, but i wonder if that is possible?, easiness?, ....it is hard to let go of what you have loved. But her quiet stillness shows me that there is nothing else to do. The body slowly shuts down, the spirit lingers. When something becomes simultaneous, we go.
?????
Worked away today. Got home, brought in wood, dealt with Tenzen and Nogal's water tub. Rested a little. Got this far...
not far at all, but took Chinche OutSide for the usual routine lately, it didn't go as usual. she could not lick snow. She could not Anything. Brought her in. Did the Goats Thing and came back in and tried to look at cloth but it's no use. My mind is with her. I squat and pet her, go off, clean the kitchen, to back and squat and pet her. Like that. so that's it today.
There is no need for comments. I know everyOne here, know that you are with Us. It's ok.
the Now What space. Cradle of Mother Night finished and in it's mailing container. so
there are no words or thoughts in the moment. just this space. empty. how it goes.
so i ran my hands through baskets of cloth, seeing what rose up
an old now piece of woven cloth from early Jude Days. Affixed to it that piece from Marti.
Set on a couch cushion. I like it. But i'm not so much into making couch cushion covers or pillows. Stuff here needs to be uhhhh, tough. For the kind of life there is here, it needs to be able to go into the Hot Regular Cycle of a washing machine,....over and over. I guess i could make it into a kind of removable cushion cover? Because i like it a LOT? or
maybe i just am not much for making home enhancement things. Maybe i am not practical . Maybe i don't have a thing for Usefull. Just the Useless, like story pictures. Saying that doesn't bother me at all. It would have, not all that long ago. Being useful was important i thought because other people thought so. But really, No, i guess i don't care. So i left it on the cushion and kept feeling through the baskets. Finally...
these two...i washed them in my hand in the kitchen sink and set them on the chair to dry.
of course! a Deb Lacativa
can you see the Eye in the lower left? Double click
the second piece, the B side of a thrift shop article of clothing
the A side which i do not like at all.
SUN did come. Halfway through the day and the melting progresses. Still much SNOW, but progress toward mud. We are now 3 days into January. Moving toward Spring.
this one has been the most difficult to photograph. Partly things i am not understanding yet about the new camera, but i think really, because of the extreme of Night and Day and i think, well, of course...that is what the Cloth is speaking of....Solstice....the dominance of Mother Night over SUN. Of Course.
on the left. the Sitting. Meditating to Morning. On the right, the Return to Mother Night.
Receiving the Day
and then...the Giving. The Giving to the Day.
This feels very very good.
and i got an email from one of the "Quiet Ones" today with this link. She'd been to the Library and was looking through Mother Earth News...saw this and emailed. How BEAUTY FULL is this!....This is how we take care of each other, from distance sometimes, from being Quiet, but we keep eachother in mind and in Heart and are There for eachother. What can be better than this????, nothing.
I don't think Chinche has much time. She can no longer stand. When i take her Out, she collapses. Today she licked snow. But she DID lick snow. I talked tonight to Tay about when she's gone, when Tay will be the Only dog. How it might feel. That though Chinche doesn't do much of anything anymore, she is still one of Tay's. What will it be?, when it's just me and Tay? So i talked a lot about that and she listened and looked deep into my face, listening to my language that is not her language.
