I love so much the comments in these last two days. So much. They seem in direct thread to something i have been thinking and trying to put into words. That this blog, i'd like it not to be about me, really, rather just things i see and feel. Which really, are in commonality with every one elses things they see and feel. The details are different but i am thinking the experience is common. We all have days. lying ourselves down in our beds, and in the dark, we think for a little or a long while about "it all". Whatever it is for each of us, but we all lie there when dark comes. and then we sleep to rise in the morning, put on our clothes and Begin Again. I think it's such a Shared thing, a shared Heart.
I thought that if i were more capable, i would really like to change it into a forum like Jude had with her online classes. How beauty FULL that was, how much i learned about so many. Here tho, it wouldn't necessarily need to be about whatever cloth work we might be doing....i talk about the raised beds. someone else might talk about their favorite African Violet. Does this make sense? I'm just winging it as i always do, without trying to think it "through" ahead...just what comes to mind in the moment. Anyway, I thank everyone for the thoughts given, so so much, not about anything i do, but about that shared experience. It's so life affirming in such hard times. Is the antidote to things like the political joke in this country that could break my heart every day.
i tweaked the color to let the sticks be what they really are which then makes Tay blacker than she really is. Yesterday it was Tay. today it's the sticks. There is a whole pile of them out in the Way Back. Scavenged from the local dump some years ago. They've had many transmutations. Were pieces of someone's pig pen. I left the really smelly pig wood there and just brought home the sticks. They are Salt Cedar, Tamarisk. An extremely STRONG wood. Here, they are placed next to one another to create whats commonly called coyote fencing. The salt cedar is everywhere and can be harvested everywhere. People are Glad you come for it. BLM, Bureau of Land Management bulldozes it and it lies in great piles, waiting to be cut, disposed of. It is not good for firewood. something in it corrodes the stove pipes in relatively short order. But for so many things, it is just so Great and will last a lifetime. When i think of the great grandkids coming this summer, i think of us maybe building a shade house out there by the Raft, where the OldCowboy's lawn furniture is now. These, not
these....they are needed where they are,
but the others, in the way back would be perfect for the roof, held in place with baling wire. They are one of my most prized possessions.
all the invisible baste is finished and i wanted to try out a thought...that the Path could be with black and white thread, that it would wind through this Heartscape of Imaginal Diorama. And right now, i'm thinking how to put the pile of sticks.
