This moment in between

Winter Solstice

Thinking only makes the heart sore.
I Ching
when you startle awake in the dark morning
heart pounding breathing fast
sitting bolt upright staring into
dark whirlpool black hole
feeling its suction
get out of bed
knock at the door of your nearest friend
ask to lie down ask to be held
listen while whispered words
turn the hole into deep night sky
stars close together
winter moon rising over white fields
nearby wren rustling dry leaves
distant owl echoing
two people walking up the road laughing
let your soul laugh
let your heart sigh out
that long held breath so hollow in your stomach
so swollen in your throat
already light is returning pairs of wings
lift softly off your eyelids one by one
each feathered edge clearer between you
and the pearl veil of day
you have nothing to do but live 


~ Anonymous  by Jody Aliesan, from "Grief Sweat" (Broken Moon Press, 1991)

: : :

Update on solstice morn:  overnight, a friend sent a sweet note.

She wondered if perhaps the "anonymous" poem above had been written by me ...

Although I'd like nothing better then to claim that gem as my own, it troubled

me that such fine words had no author.  So I went back to Google where I'd initially

found it and kept searching, but this time using the first line of the poem and not

the key words  winter solstice  for the search terms. 

And there it was - reprinted in the book section of 

the Los Angeles Times newspaper in the summer of 1991.

I also discovered that the first two lines of the original poem

had been dropped from all the copies circulating the internet;

I have added them back.

In addition, the original contained no capital letters in the body 

and no line spaces - I've revised those as well.

So .... here is the poem in its original, true form.

Thank You to my friend for raising the question that sent me on

a quest for ownership.  Ms. Aliesan deserves this credit and now I can give it.

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Sailing towards solstice

June 21st shall be here in no time and as I continue to stitch my flag

for the Solace Project

I can't help but marvel, thinking about so many hands at work just like mine around the world

also stitching with intention - attention - welcoming participation as I do

in this collective poetry project for peace.

My personal deadline for mailing to the far off way station of Andamooka, South Australia

is the first day of June.  This is to insure that should said package decide to go for

a short walkabout in the opal fields beforehand

it will still make it on time to join the party around India's indigo vat

when dipping begins.

Many souls have long since sent their flags for a timely arrival ... those I know of

have been added under the Solace project tab up in the header.

Wonderful stories surround these makings.

:::

Spring continues her riotous dance of exuberance in my garden

but you can find me quietly at work with a needle 

under the green umbrella ...

you can't miss me, I'm the one with the collie at her feet ;>)

Till later, then ... when our flags meet under an Australian sun!

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Sun ball ...

... the day is so short on the winter solstice,

it fits between my paws.

~ December views ~

For those who care about the techie mumbo-jumbo:

original photo

(of one very wet Quinn, confined in the mudroom & quite anxious to escape)

 shot with iPhone,

altered with Wood Camera + Jazz!

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The unbearable lightness

translucent,

whisper soft...

five layers of hand dyed cloth

held (momentarily) by a single pin.

   We all need somebody to look at us.  We can be divided into four categories according to the

   kind of look we wish to live under.  The first category longs for the look of an infinite number

   of anonymous eyes, in other words, for the look of the public...

   The second category is made up of people who have a vital need to be looked at by many known

   eyes.  They are the tireless hosts of cocktail parties and dinners...

   Then there is the third category, the category of people who need to be constantly before the eyes

   of the person they love.  Their situation is as dangerous as the situation of people in the first

   category.  One day the eyes of their beloved will close, and the room will go dark...

   And finally there is the fourth category, the rarest, the category of people who live in the imaginary

   eyes of those who are not present.  They are the dreamers."

~ Milan Kundera, from The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Although I wrote (what then seemed quite profound) a notation along the margin of the page,

I did not understand this quote when I first read it in my mid-twenties...

nor did I understand that lives can be shaped by irrevocable choices.

The summer solstice has arrived

and a few frayed edges are lining up...

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Longer tomorrows...

...they're on their way!

Remember this?  One of my favorite episodes of all time...

Happy Winter Solstice, my friends!

to see my December Views from the beginning, start here...

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Ahh, summer solstice...

"On the Cliffs" by Henry Ryland

...the longest day of the year, the shortest night.  The wheel of the year turns and the traditional anticipation of summer is taking hold... 

I adore this painting.  It reminds me to keep looking forward, to be filled with anticipation and a searching soul. For reasons unknown ~ as I'm not much prone to ritual ~ I'm going to walk today (with dawg) to one of our special places, say some thank you's along the way to leafage, birdsong and the glorious sea air that surrounds us.  A quiet celebration with only two feet and four paws yet one filled with gratitude ~ deep, deep gratitude.

Happy solstice, my friends!

For a beautiful photograph of sunrise this morning at Stonehenge in Salisbury, England, look here.

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Resist * Stitch * Bead

Have you ever signed up for a workshop when you weren't quite sure it would offer what you need to know, or if that direction is where you want to go?

And then when the workshop is over, you head home with your mind swimming with new inspiration and you realize you made a darn good decision - for once, that month...?!

Resist dyeing on hand felted wool was something I knew nothing about but I did know that at this juncture in my beading life I was keen to explore different textiles on which to sew all those tiny beads.  I had been working primarily with Indonesian batiks so when a friend suggested this workshop, the first thing I did was to Google the instructor's name (I Google everything so that was nothing new) and whoa, not only did this gal seem like a barrel of  FUN, she also created very beautiful work with felt.  I figured if all else failed and this wasn't going to be a medium for me, at least I would have lots of laughs and view a whole bunch of really wonderful felt art.  

Workshop photos courtesy Molly Green

If you haven't heard of Chad Alice Hagen, let it be known she is a whirling dervish felt dyer extraordinaire.  For five days she had us kneading, pounding and squeezing merino batts.  We then clamped, pinched and folded the felted wool around the weirdest objects you can imagine - like tongue depressors, popsicle sticks, office clips, clothespins of varied sizes, rusty bits of this & that and lots of stained whatyamacallits.  Then into the dye pots they all went, while we danced - yes, that's right, danced.  Warning: Chad makes you do a "dye dance" - it's tradition - although no dance skills are required on the paperwork you fill out before attending one of her workshops.  It was a hoot!


The dancing must have worked because we watched while the dye pots transformed our little swatches of felt into quite remarkable something-elses...

The Pacific Northwest Art School on Whidbey Island, WA, was the site for our workshop.  They have an excellent workspace for these kinds of textile shenanigans - a table for each participant with power access for a task light, several sinks and easy access to outdoors, which is where the dye pots lived.

You have no idea what you're going to get until you unfold that felt.  There is a lot of big B.O.L.D. color with this type of dyeing and by placing your bundles into successive pots of color, the variations in design, color overlays, are endless.

This red one was rolled on the diagonal around a metal tube, then tied with rubber bands

Those yellowish stripes on the bottom?  Tongue depressors!

And all those half circle shapes?  Big 'ole office clips.  Who knew?!

I'm especially fond of the subtleties that happened, like this filigree in the corner...

When it came time to begin stitching and beading, we each had about 35+ pieces to choose from.  Out came the threads, the stashes of beads.  Our work tables started to look like this:

Glorious mayhem...

...and bead coveting galore!

After deciding to cut up & then stitch together three different felts (is that a word?), I finally put my beading needle through that first bead, through my first felt, and oh la la, little did I know that sewing beads onto felt was gonna be like sewing through butter.  There is no better word than YUM.

On this cold & chilly winter solstice eve,

I wish for each of you

the warmth of what you love,

the fine colors of vivid imaginings,

good & true companions,

the many blessings of laughter

and

dancing when you least expect it.

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