Protection

Sometimes it's advantageous to set a project aside when it reaches an impasse.

I can't remember exactly why I stopped working on this series in the summer of 2013,

but I remember exactly why I started ....

beadwork on naturally dyed cloth

that hopefully could symbolize thoughts I was having about

how we humans guard ourselves.

Not only the different ways we protect ourselves from each other, 

how we wear masks so that our real selves can't be seen or fully known,

but also how we guard ourselves out in the world.

Somewhere there's a list - a long list of words I wrote to itemize all the ways we might do this.

Need to dig that out now

because I think the time is ripe for carrying on with this.

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Minding my maps

Merriam-Webster defines  map :

1 a:  a representation usually on a flat surface of the whole or a part of an area

b:  a representation of the celestial sphere or a part of it

2 :  something that represents with a clarity suggestive of a map

~ the Freudian 'map' of the mind -- Harold Bloom

so I got to thinking ....

could photographs act just as easily as maps of a  life?

If I mapped myself, what might that look like?

And if I focused on, say, my creative life, would it be telling?

Could I show the route from back there 

to here?

So I gave it a try & here's where it led me ...

To the convergence of paper and books

to beads on cloth with an uncertain latitude

towards an elusive north star

with an ever present guiding light

and a dear navigator who teaches all the compass points.

Just a small smattering of map pages - old directions & new ...

so yes,  I can see how I got here

but perhaps the more important question is

just where am I going?

[ this is where a hushed voice offers, "Only the cartographer knows for sure..." ]

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Considering a world view

There are many ways to say a thing.

For those of us who don't feel particularly eloquent in the political arena and

are far more comfortable with other forms of expression,

perhaps we can look more closely

at our other ways of speaking.

Because it is my opinion that now, more than ever in my living memory,

we somehow MUST keep speaking  out loud.  It's of critical importance.

So we don't feel lost.

So we don't feel helpless. 

Even the quiet work of hands and heart is not to be underestimated during this time ...

this time of which  -  to some of us  -  is looked upon

as a frightening & uncertain period in our world's history.

Again, there are many ways to say a thing....

and I think we can be a mighty choir if we don't feel so afraid.

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Despite everything

the amphibian inside us

Because it's summer.  Because the air is heavy with heat and nostalgia.

Because this is what we have to keep remembering, the way our bodies

know the waves, the amphibian inside us unafraid of going under,

of what ripples beneath the surface.  Because waiting on the dock

for the signal to jump is like thinking someone else is responsible.  Because

there is no one else responsible.  Because despite the current,

it is possible to swim against it, or even stand, inverted, balancing

on a slippery mulch of murk and mud, and stay perfectly still.

Because when the world tips from view, we have to do everything we can

to tip it back.

~ Maya Stein

:  :  :

from Maya Stein's "10-Line Tuesday" poetry series

... the backlog can be enjoyed  here

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Introducing 'Dear Flora' ...

To all of you who visit here

and who may also be on Facebook,

I have recently launched an artist page :

Dear Flora

I hope you'll visit me there!

Come have a look-see, maybe take part in the conversations
or just say "Hey"...

What's in a name?

Dear Flora  is my open love letter to the world of plants & my relationship with her ...

and it isn't a name only for Facebook

but one I'll be putting with the things I make as well.

Its flight time.  I need to share this evolution that's so astoundingly

taken my heart by storm.

I think I've been kin to that wrapped up, tied tight, bundle above ....

and yet what I really need to do is let loose some.  Sway with those breezes

that do such fine things with silks when they're out in the open air.

Silk -  strong and soft at the same time.

:::

See you soon.

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Moon watching

What a moon we've had developing the past few days ...

clear, star-filled nights make for contemplative viewing;

being out late with the dogs, a delight for stargazers like me.

A few days back, while it was waxing,

I posted this image on Instagram

"what night feels like towards the end of winter when spring is on the cusp

but wearing her icy mantle ..."

because although nights still call for two layers of warmth,

daytimes are for shirtsleeves and wide-brimmed hats already.

The full moon last night was glorious and I was extremely grateful for a kind winter

with very few dark days ... both in the weather, and in my mind.

I'd like to share today's "mindfulness poetry" originally posted on A Year of Being Here,

for the record - my record.  My winter of eleven winters here ... the first without seasonal angst.

Because it just might have something to do with acceptance.

: : :

Dear Ezra

I have to confess:

there are abstractions

I no longer go in fear of.

Take loneliness.

I've started calling it solitude.

It feels so new and improved now,

I can honestly say it soaks up time

better than a sponge soaks up water.

The other day I actually washed this poem with it.

Ez, let me tell you,

aging is a Laundromat,

and eventually you find yourself

watching what you spurned

and dreaded for years

spread out in widening gyres,

like sheets fluffed in the dryer.

Life is quite a bit cozier

when you let all the bugaboos-

you know- say, sadness and fear

crawl into bed with you.

Pace them with your breathing

and they fall asleep

fast as a couple of kids.

The other night we huddled together

staring at the moon

as it slid past my window:

big-bellied sail on a wet black sea.

~ by Eileen Moeller. Text as published in Poems of Awakening: An International Anthology of Spiritual Poetry.

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Unimpeded

Thought it might be fitting to wind down this year of posts

with some thought-provoking verse from Maya Stein.  I've borrowed one of her words

for the title of this one.   "a dream" appeared in this morning's mail with perfect timing,

as her poetry so often does, and not only includes a reference to potholes, but arrived

exactly when I am ripe for the reading.

Unimpeded

yes, this will be a fine word to hold onto for the new year ... a heady reminder

that most blockades I feel are actually the ones I've put up myself.

First though, I owe you kind folks a debt of gratitude for your extremely helpful comments

on my last post about a Sweetpea Path makeover.  You've given me much to consider

and I'm so glad I asked!  It's been very  very  enlightening

and heartwarming

to receive your feedback, both on the blog and via private emails.

Thank you so much for taking the time to do that.

My 'idea hat' is now filled to the brim.

~ Mt. Baker view, while riding the ferry across the Salish sea ~

... so without further ado

a dream

For a moment, it all disappeared: the potholes tripping up your stride,

the broken love story, the difficult decision, the rigor of worry about things

you know you can't possibly fix.  Suddenly, some vacuum sucked it all inside

and you leaned back, unimpeded, innocent, casual with your gaze, the stings

of your life returned to their nascent nettles.  For a moment, you were able

to neutralize your place in the world, find fresh buoyancy in the waves.

For a moment, you saw, even, the geometry of loss, each cradle

that holds our grief so steady, each heartbeat threading through the maze.

But this was no sunny island reverie, some implausible and pointless dream.

It was you, remembering where you've always been.

~ Maya Stein

: : :

from "10-Line Tuesday" poetry series

... a backlog can be viewed   here

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Hanging out with squares

You could say I've been making the [re]acquaintance of squares ...

as silly as it sounds, Instagram might be to blame.  Which won't make much sense to

non-users so to clarify:  Instagram, the online mobile photo-sharing & networking service,

has the distinctive feature of confining photos to a square format.

If you want to post there your image must fit into a square

so if you didn't shoot it that way to begin with, it's resized to fit.

Remember the Polaroids of old?

Framing within the rectangular 4:3 aspect ratio almost exclusively for most of my life

left me, at first, fighting for elbow room within this equal-sided confined space.

But before too long, I wondered what was so bad about a little size challenge anyway? 

Surely this leap wasn't going to be as great as dumping my film cameras

in trade for digital?

That was enormously difficult.

Fast forward a year or so ...

Forward through a whole lot of practice/editing time

while commuting on the ferries,

forward through lots of "window seat" opportunities to try this, try that, ask what if ...

Alternative worlds were tried on - my app-aholic time, I called it.

It took a while to sort of tweak my viewpoint

but making the subject matter fit into a

perfectly

symmetrical

BOX

finally became not such a conscious struggle.

So what's come from all this?

A hefty file of ferry photos for one ...

During all weathers, ranges of light, in transit & not;

daytime, mid-darkness to ethereal at midnight; 

looking up, behind, out, across the rails or beyond -

laden with tourists in the high season,  deliciously empty & silent in the off ...

and at times, strangely decorated ...

My island wandercloth became a textile installation afloat

near Waldron Island

[yup, there's an app for that].

Somewhere along this mobile photography journey I began to follow an info-packed blog

called, "Art of Mob" compiled by Geri Centonze.  Wowza.  App reviews, tutorials,

fab interviews ... chock full.  I noticed Geri ran the occasional *challenge* on Instagram.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles  [any mode of rapid transit] was the chosen subject recently

so I thought, what the heck, I've got ferries ...

Twas the rope composition which floated me onto the  showcase

but I want to mention that I couldn't have done it without 

Distressed FX texture app ...

*  thank you  *

Now it seems the whole square option is sneaking its way into other aspects

of my once rectangular life.

'splash' went decidedly that direction without hesitation ...

and today's gathering of leaves got into the act ...

during the lineup for the seasonal portrait

they arranged themselves

just so.

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this moment :: vintage buttons for a modern story

{  this moment  }

A single photo

~ no words ~

capturing a moment from the week.

A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

~ SouleMama

:::

inspired by the Friday reflections at Amanda's

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Speaking

what there aren't words for yet

What those hummingbirds in your chest whisper when you tell

your first lie. The toothy rumble of the lions that scare

your lungs into giving up. The edges of a leap - half-murmur, half-yell -

that steer your feet away. The guffaw from the shadows tempting you to ignore

your own magnificence. The boisterous roosters pecking holes in your plans. The tire

tracks cajoling you to stay on course. How we search for a plain sentence

to fill the cracks of heartache, for language to pull us, like a ladder,

out of each dark and muddled well. We think thunder is a metaphor. Or the fence

dividing one yard from the next, its own instruction. But the story's yours, you know.

There is no better way to say it. Make the words up as you go.

~ Maya Stein

  from her 10-Line Tuesday series

: : :

stitch, shibori, indigo, photography

Some means of expression

but only a small portion of the longer story unfolding.

Is there any better way

than to make it up as we go along?

I mean, really ... is there.

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Another place

::  flight miracle  ::

Although there may be long stretches of time between blog posts,

it's rare a day goes by when I don't fiddle with photographs ...

either taking them or playing with them;

editing & stacking apps, playing with effects, layering textures,

double exposures ... on and on it goes.

True confession:

I have absolutely, unreservedly,

fallen under the spell of iPhoneography.

[digital photography with a smartphone]

At this moment

there's a wee bit of a backlog of images piling up

and I've been noticing a lot of folks

sharing similar mobile photography interests

who I want

to be in touch with ...

I love learning from them and I love to see how

they're translating their world.

::  what memories might look like stitched into cloth  ::

To that end

there's a new link over in the sidebar

::  INSTAGRAM  ::

won't you join me?

::  dreams of summer  ::

My intention is to build a library of images over there,

a collection of edits that won't necessarily appear here ...

experiments, new translations of old subject matter,

and a whole bunch of explorations

into the wide unknown.

There will undoubtedly be dogs,

beads,

dye pots,

 views around my hood,

and elsewhere this summer.

I'll be hash tagging the apps I use, to keep record

and also to share the work process

because some of my fondest successes have come from

following the footsteps of others who've shared theirs.

Wanna keep that circle going ...

I may not always have a lot of words,

but I'm never short of a picture or two.

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What the hedgerows had to say

Last evening, although it was getting late,
there was good sky

so the woofies and I went out for a walk.
Our land is surrounded by pastures to the south,
mixed Douglas fir forests to the north, east, west
and everywhere in between is the smell of the sea
and the wild scramble of the native understory.

Willows ... catching the late light in their freshly leafed out canopies.

Over time, mostly when I wasn't paying much attention,
I've built relationships with these plants & trees ...
they all serve an important purpose in our small ecosystem
and no matter how annoyed I might be with hauling another fallen branch
across the footpath or disentangling myself for the umpteenth time from the thorn-hold
of wayward blackberries,
I deeply believe everything residing here holds value.
Bitter berries for songbirds, rotting stumps for the tree frogs,
the mucky pond shallows for salamanders ...
the list is long
and diverse
and has become a great source of inspiration.

I'm often up late, with the owls, doing handwork ...
This bead weaving stitched to willow-dyed cloth became a personal story
about my Salix friends with branches.

On the trek home we spied this native elderberry [Sambucus caerulea]

setting off some frothy firecrackers.
If I'm very lucky this season
I may get to some of the gorgeous blue-black berries
well before the birds.
Must be quick - they always beat me to it.

I admit to being taken aback 

by the sheer size of her this year.

Why, she must have put on two more feet

upwards and sidewards

since last summer !

Me & my furry pals may head out again this evening for another ramble
for there's so much going on out there ...
and what the plants are saying now
is foretelling a fine future.


: : :


joining in with the folks over at
Our World Tuesday
[because it's Tuesday in Australia  ;>]
pop over & be transported around the globe ...

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Recipe for continuing with great abandon

~ from 'Unveiled' portfolio, by Barbara Parmet ~

~ 'Different Way' by Przemslaw Stradczuk ~

~ 'esto nunca' by Brandon Gomez ~

~ 'barefoot Kristine' by Sus Idus ~

~ untitled, by Rodney Smith ~

~ Alan Stokes in '21 Days Later' by Sharpy ~

Sometimes 

the best choice is simply

to raise both hands while

holding tight to a heart full of courage,

then

take that giant leap of faith, 

or that long walk into the dark ...

dare to do it  -

ride the biggest wave of your life

because

~ untitled, by Sarolta Ban ~

a gift may be waiting.

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