windthread

riding an edge

it's not quite 7pm and i've built a fire.  THEY say,  10% chance of snow showers.  OK.

 

early morning Chair Love

 

was about to go get the tall green ladder to try to catch a pic of the first tassels on the Young Cottonwood.  But i suddenly remembered the T.  T.  Telephoto.  and YES!!!!!  Telephoto.  and what Else might it work for?????

 

YES!!!!!  Goats at a distance....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Celia

 

Ginger (Snap)

This is GREAT to find out.  It's almost impossible to take a pic of a Goat when you are anywhere near them.  they are photophobic.  But this way...ahhhh and eeeeeee,  they never guess.

 

am loving this dimensional quality....stitching as i go,  moving the cloth as i stitch,  letting it become as it Will.  Letting cloth be just what it IS,  in it's Wild state....yes.  Love this.

 

by the end of this day

 

 

 

 

i think i'm back??????

so the Belov~ed Travis came and everything seemed good.  New virus defense was added.  All seemed well and i posted that quick post.   Waking yesterday morning,  all full of anticipation,  only to find a box that said there was no Internet connection.  Whaa.  so adrift again but this morning,  before he went to work,  he came again and here i am.  Here i am.   i like writing that.  Here i am.

It was 5 days.  I let my mind wander,  wander and wander.  In between,  i Followed the Breath.  Inhaling through the opening in the top of my skull,  the breath moving down,  filling my whole body and then being exhaled through the opening in the Heart Space.

Wander, Wander.  Breathe Breathe.  wander more.  Breathe more.   

Drifting.

I began to stitch the  Stand and Face What You Know.  But mostly i drifted.  I looked through all the books and spent some time with these

 

it was Comforting,  going back to the Dalai Lama's words....i could hear his voice speaking them

i made a pile of books to go to the Library Book Sale and at first put this...

 

Wendy Jehanara Tremayne and her partner Mikey Sklar moved from a high powered life in NYC to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico in 2006.  This book documents the beginning of their lives there living in a world of salvage.  T or C is a little over an hour from here down I-25.  It's eccentric.  Maybe i should do a field trip there for Julie.  Maybe i could stand at Wendy's gate.  Maybe she would come to her gate.  I am keeping the book for a while yet at least.  her blog is  thegoodlifelab.com

In the 5 days of no connection, two things stand out from the Drift.

One being that without word from "outside",  ie the Google News,  I would NEVER imagine the world to be as it seems to be.  Here,  just Wind.  Sun.  the Sky.  Rhythm of Goats, dog, cat.  Rhythm of Spring  emerging everywhere.  Peace.

 

 

and Two,  that i am Full of Gratitude to YOU.  Deep gratitude and love.  This blog is.  This blog connects me in a connectionlessness,  here,  in this very oh so quiet Place.  How it is a Place to tell this and also a Place where there are others who i come to know so well and who open their own lives and Places of Being....What they see,  what they do.   How they Feel.

I have deep love for that.

and then on Facebook...where i go to see what the "kids" are doing...

 

the grandson's boy, Fate.   Oh i look.  Fate.  How it goes for him in California.

 

 

 

 

 

how amazing

here i am.

i imagined i might be "lost" forever.  so i spent these couple/few days as if it were true.

but i am not.  I am here.  it will take tonight and into the morning to realize the whole of it.

 

and really,  you were spared pic pic pic pic pic on and on of the changes.  This is where we've Got to

Life is strange and Wonder full and beyond Interesting

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

today

 

 

 

 

Here, in the Heart

May 20 Brain Pickings,  Maria Popova

"In my own reflections on hope, cynicism and the stories we tell ourselves,  I have considered the necessity of these two poles working in concert.  Indeed, the stories we tell ourselves about these poles matter.  The stories we tell about our public past shape how we interpret and respond to and show up for the present.  The stories we tell ourselves about our private pasts shape how we come to see our personhood and who we ultimately become.  The thin line between agency in victimhood is drawn in how we tell those stories.

The language in which we tell ourselves these stories matters tremendously, too,  and no writer has weighed the complexity of sustaining hope in our times of readily available despair more thoughtfully and beautifully, not with greater nuance than Rebecca Solnit in 

Hope in the Dark:   Untold Histories,  Wild Possibilities"

 

 

to wake,  Every Day,  and dress in the Things of this Earth,  to wear the earth on our bodies and show up and tell out stories

i don't know

you might have noticed that the posts are seeming to come "later" than usual,    which is not really true,  it's that i am not accomadating the time change,  i am not "springing forward".  So...no daylightsavings here.  We are running on the same time,  same time that has always been the same time on the bedroom clock which i would have to add or subtract from when i looked,  wondering if it was "time to get up" or if there was another hour,  now,  if i am "behind" an hour.  So strange.  But the computer screen up in the top right says it's 6:55.  But here,  for Us,  it's 5:55.

I cleaned for Allan today as i do every other Tuesday and he was running behind so we had the opportunity to talk and watch his peafowl....PeaMan was into his most extravagant self,  his FAN fanning and magnificant and his first hen PeaWoman was atop the chicken house,  watching but not watching.  Last time i was there there was a note saying that a dog had come and taken several of the chickens and PeaWoman and her 3 daughters had Fled.    So now today,  she came home and with her first daughter Calliope.  The other two daughters,  the youngest,  have opted to live down the road.    We discussed  all this.  It was nice.  We talked about how for me Peacocks are proof of some kind of Ultra Max Cosmic  Intelligence ....Creator....because of all that they ARE could not be for anything at all except for Display of Beauty....

and when i was done,  i went to town for the once a week thing and i kept Aware of things....my exchanges,  verbal and non verbal with others shopping,  my choice of stuff to buy or not,  how i put some stuff in my basket but then ended up putting it Back where i'd found it.   Having a Mindful check out exchange with the young man at the cash register....not just glib,  but WITH him  and on the way out i saw the Post Office Guy going in and we waved recognition and i thought about how i kind of have a crush on him....not sure i could tell you why,  but i do....and i am so glad that i am of a certain age where it is not possible...he is young...but it's nice and

as i was driving home there was an enormous sense of LOVE for this place i live,  how Plain it is and Small and really Safe and Kind in its own way,  such a soft and grateful feeling  that was juxtaposed to the Violence on the Google News this morning in Belgium where Maria lives...i know it's a small country,  so tho she doesn't live where the Violence took place,  it is close to her garden.

I thought the afternoon would just drift away,  but i was finding self looking at that face

and thinking of going forward with it as a Cloth,  probably for that Art Thing in Magdalena,  but really, NO and i can't.  For me,  this is Alyssia's face,  my granddaughter,  and i can't.  

 

 

so into the Prayer Basket that Patricia made,  the Walnut Dye prayer basket that has a mouth,  that breaths,  that could also be an eye

so no.

 

but then...i thought well,  see if any face will come up and 

 

but it's Young

 

and then even when i gave her Flowers,  she would not soften...her Fierceness remained

 

tried more to soften her....

No.  OK   Ok and O k.

 

so she is who she is.  and i wraped her girl child in the flowers and let her BE 

as She needs to Be.    

 

contrast

yesterday and today.   

yesterday.  50~60 people.  All good hearted,  all with so much inside them.  Some of which they voiced there,  much more of which i assume was unsaid.  Who they all are.   Are.  Are.   You could tell a lot by the food.  I keep thinking about the food.  Which was really astounding.  How people cooked and baked.  because it said PotLuck,  so they cooked and baked in each their own homes and brought it.  I want to keep looking at this.

The early part of the day was work away, being a Monday on that calendar map.  and when Home,  i was just kind of wandering.  I saw

 

how the asparagus i planted last year  has come UP.  I looked a long time at this.

 

 

 

my skin.    Skin.  my skin

 

this shell,  this Home of a Being now finding its self on a log in a desert

Equinox

Lilac.  Sun behind gives my shape to Her.

 

only half opened,  but all the House Yard is fragrant

 

Home from my foray into the Larger World,  i brought water to the Raft

 

 

So...i DID go.   to the Magdalena organizational First Saturday in May meeting,  at the 101 Gallery that used to be the old feed store that still WAS a feed store till they wanted it to be a Gallery space MORE and DID it.   Potluck.  I took deviled eggs.  Because it was what i had here,  a lot of eggs from Jan the Dog Trainer's chooks.   I know that fresh eggs don't peel easily but well,  i'd had them a week already but a week is not enough.  It took  FOREVER to pick off fleck of shell by fleck of shell.  But in the end, 23 deviled eggs.  One white caved in.   Celery, onion,  dijon mustard and cayenne.  OK.  There were between 50 and 60 people there...a great turnout and the food was INCREDIBLY GOOD...a vast array of things with 3 offerings of home made breads that were FINE.   A yellow thing that none of us at my table could identify the ingredients of that was sublime.  the Mystery food.  I wish.

And good conversation with the woman of Bear Mountain Coffee House Gallery...you can google that,  there's a few pics....where the fiber arts are to be this time.  IF i can work it out,  IF i can hang cloths Inside,  IF we can work out a retail price that works for both of us,  i will do it.  If not,  probably not.  Last year (?)  i took things and Wind arrived  mid morning and i took it all down and came home.  

Equinox.  Equal this and equal that.  Today,  equal this world and equal the Other world.  OK.

and it's colder UP there in Magdalena,  the altitude changing the temps by sometimes 10 degrees so i had on my sweatshirt.  But i tried to arrange the front of it so Mo's T shirt image showed and DID get compliments....I'll wear it again if i do the Art Thing and take some little papers with her info so people can order one.

 

As with Cloth, as with Life. So many components.

Just to say,  no need to think much about the post yesterday unless it has some connection to your own life.  There is a kind of peace with that memory.  It's over.  And as granddaughter and i have thought,  it will never happen again.  In Our lives.  But well,  just to say,  it is common.  And not how i'd thought,  just among Some Kinds of People,  but just common.  

Tonglen.

 

yesterday.....

Here it goes again.  Magdalena never gives up.   Every year,  Great Ideas,  Great Hopes.  So here we go again.  But with one big difference

 

i went to the mail box down at the end of the road and.....

MY DRESS UP SHIRT HAD ARRIVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  double click me.  I am NOT the queen of selfies....how do they DO it,  the young ones?   It took me forever to move the table out of the way,  set the mirrow,  chase Tay away,  get one where the shirt is not obscured and on and on but here i AM in THE CROW shirt which is Beyond Grand and i will feel That Grand wearing it tomorrow when i take my contribution of deviled eggs to the potluck.

 

and looking...how it might go

 

Concern

What do you do when you wake around 4 in the morning with some

Deep Concerns

I looked the word up to be sure it's the one i want...and definition b. according to Webster says:  an uneasy state of blended interest, uncertainty and apprehension.   Yes.  Yes.  This is right.  Not worries,  because they are frivolous,  not Fears because that's not the extent,  but Concerns.  Deep Concerns.    Waking wide awake with Deep Concerns.  So...what was there to do?  Get up.  Make red chile.  Fry some potatoes and spoon on a liberal amount.  Eat it.  

 

it's a simple thing,  red chile,  as far as ingredients.  But there are some particulars that must be followed closely.  I learned from that person i was married to that i call the maniac but that Yvette doesn't want me to call him that,  him.  The last of the particulars is to simmer until a "skin" forms on the top.  And Look....Meera....the skin formed a Blossom

and you are still there with your Concerns,  so you just sit there in the Morning Chair in the still dark and eat More red chile by the spoonful till the SUN rises,  till Day.

 

Your dog is thinking it is time for her food.  She is a little anxious because it's earlier than normal,  so the anxiousness makes her Yawn

 

 

and then it's Light.  Morning is underway.  and in an email with Michelle about the 60's and 70's and Ram Dass  and trusting,  she sends me this,  from a friend of hers who read it in a NOVEL she got at a library sale:

"Memory is a willful dog.  It won't be summoned or dismissed but it cannot survive without you.  It can sustain you or feed you.  It visits when it is hungry,  not when you are.  It has a schedule all its own that you can never know,  it can capture you, corner you or liberate you.  It can leave you howling and it can make you smile....The trick is not to hate yourself...If you can manage not to hate yourself,  then it won't hurt to remember almost anything;  your childhood,  your parents,  what you've done or what's been done to you...."

I sat.  Reading and re reading.  

I have never hated myself.  so that word doesn't work for me here,  but all the rest DOES.  So i think...what word or words would i replace for hate myself that could make these words mine?  Because Michelle's friend cannot remember anything more about the book and this is all we have,  Michelle's friend, Michelle,  Me and now 

you

so...what do i insert here?   The trick is not to....................................If you can manage not to.................................................then it won't hurt to remember almost anything;  your childhood,  your parents,  what you've done or what's been done to you