Book Club Reading

"The View from the Studio Door" is by Ted Orland. I haven't begun it yet beause I do not have it.I am sending check today. Melanie Testa is hosting discussion group on her blog which is linked in the title of this page.
Lately my chorus of inner critics have been having a party in my head. Their names are Not Important, Too Old, Too Fat, Too Sad, Nobody Cares, Fatigue and Unworthy. Not Important and Unworthy are twins but they are not identical twins. They are especially loud when it comes to writing and painting-and really really loud when when I entertain the idea of publishing or --be still my heart--selling my work.
So here is my plan. I am exposing them. They hate the light. And I am going to try to be indifferent to their raucus and clamourous intrusion. I plan on playing music and books on tape as a first line of defense.
And daily practise and taking care of myself and most important I am going to .....what ? I don't know yet. That is why I am here, to figure that out. Writing about the chorus is a way to route them out. Sometimes they surprise me when I become aware of how constant they have become. Can I eradicate them? Silence them? Or at least minimize their influence? That is the plan.
Yesterday when I posted the poem, I felt very vulnerable and almost did not share it. Too Sad and Nobody Cares were working on me. But I put on my armor and posted away. I am ready to fight for my art.

Memorial

maybe there is no such thing as
enough time to grieve the truly grievous loss
never a time that you will not stumble into the inevitable pocket of memory that you thought (you dreamed you had buried it)
stumbled into the for last time and would never have to do it again
and again the earth opens and you remember

driving
a winding road on the east coast in 1962
in summer
in the back of a vw bug in your pajamas
the scent of beach roses hovering in the night air. you
counting street lights
on the way home from the drive in

you should be sleeping but the material in the back of the vw is
too scratchy
and it is too much fun to be out this late any way
way way past bedtime
way past

in the past I would swallow this bitter pill,
the waking up to it,the knowing of
this memory of june, carried on the scent of a fragile rose
in the early summer on the beach

bitter bitter winters to follow
still unthinkable

what stops you in your tracks is that the memory is so clear and yet so distant
you can almost be there if you close your eyes and

if the world would just stop

just for a minute
and let you go back
just to be there in that time

when you knew what it was like to know that the world was going to be like this forever
and if you wanted something with your whole heart you could have it.

maybe it doesn’t matter if you are fifteen or fifty
if the earth opens up that way
you fall
and you are in that place at the same time as you are actually walking along
and it is always a surprise
because you had long since forgotten that you had ever been that way

that innocent
and there it is
almost reachable and always irretrievable

it was just a rose, just
a reminder
memento mori

Beach Rose

This is a Beach Rose. I don't know the real name. They grow wild along the mid Atlantic and north Atlantic coast. Their perfume is divine.You can make tea from the rose hips.
When I was a kid growing up in Rhode Island we use to take drives along the shore where the great mansions stood and these roses grew in hedges along the side of the road. The aroma wafted in through the car window as we meandered along the roads.
This particular rose is an uninvited guest in our little garden. It has been trying to grow for a couple of years and this year I just left it to see what would happen and lo and behold there were blooms and this wonderful rose emerged and more will follow-and they are red! How wonderful. And the smell transports me right back to the back seat of a nineteen fifty six volkswagon in 1960 something.

Triangles for the wedding gift

Here is my Name and Claim project for the next couple of days-to tame this pile of fabric and paper and make it into a pile of squares. It has taken me a while to engage in this project, but I have the time and energy to work on it, so now is the time!
Today my plan is to trim and remove the paper from the pile on the right and attach them to the pile on the left to make blocks like the pile on the top. Well maybe not all today. I have about seventy one blocks to assemble before I can put the top together. If I use the quilt as you go method, I can assemble the blocks in sets nine sets of nine then use a single row as a border and it will be eleven blocks by eleven. This could work! The wedding is August 11.

Another small thing

Love this little Kimono from Kumiko Sudo's book, "Kokoro no Te". It has given me some peaceful stitching time, driving back and forth to hospital where my daughter is being treated for her bi polar disorder.
We have made the drive several times since Friday when we took here there. So many things going on. I have not written or thought about it deeply, just putting one foot in front of the other. I do not have to understand everything. That is the hardest part for me, always needing to understand the whys and wherefores.
Sometimes I just have to trust the process. I still ask though. Maybe the problem is I am just too adept at recognizing when I am being led around in circles, when paradigms collide and no one really has the answers but it seems important to believe that they do.
So that is where I dwell these days in that world of chimera and mirage. Which drug will work? Which part is behavioral and which part is neurobiological? Who knows what and is there really any one who knows anything? And what is it fair to expect? from her from me from them?

A few small blocks

A few blocks to add to my pile. Demands on my time and energy have made these little sweet blocks the only ones I do. For now I am only doing what I want to do. I will get back to my bigger commitments as soon as I feel like it will be fun and not a drain or obligation. How is that for being selfish! Ha! I worked very hard to reach this level of selfishness!

Rugby

Perect day for a Rugby Tournament! The girl is my Jen. She was spectating only! Fun to take pictures as they roll by!

Round Robin

I have been diligently working on my Round Robin this week in spite of one crisis after another. Nothing earth shattering, just a crushed fender-so my fault -and the usual torment of teen agers testing and testing. You can see that I cannot get far enough back to get a decent picture, but it will have to do for now, until I stitch the border on and I can move it to a bigger spot!

Spring has sprung

Flowering bushes in my yard. Altho we have a tiny plot, we do love to fill it up with flowers. It is a perfect spring day. I have been for a walk and done lots of Things that Need to Be Done. The rest of the afternoon is mine with which to do whatever.

A Few Little Things

Here are the things I finished today.
And a poem which I wrote in my car this morning.

God traces a path through
the sightless dark, through
the pitiless cold
and timeless configurations

God brushes away doubt and
impassable obstacles and says
"Let there be love."

The title of the book I have used for machine embroidery is " Vanishing Act, Machine Embroidery on Soluble Fabrics" by Jan Beaney. It is a very good resource if you are interested in this kind of stuff. It was a gift from My Secret Pal. I have visited their web site(click on her name) and they have alot of really cool books there to look at.

The messenger

I finished a new tote today. It is called a messenger bag and it is an Amy Butler design to which I have added a loop and a side pocket for scissors.It is a great size to haul all my applique stuff and maybe a book or journal and some pens... The fabric is an older Ralph Lauren pattern, which I used to make valances for my cottage. I loved that I made it using the material that I had, and the history it has for me. The lining is a Waverly plaid which I used to make slipcovers for a friend, who has since dissapeared in the swift currents of time.
The tulip is a volunteer that grows in my Lilac bush every spring, in the shade, in between the branches. If you don't know to look for it, you will miss it. I have no idea who planted it there. One year it just appeared.