Sunday, July 24, 2016

waiting summer

paper arc of safety
the beautiful north country wasn't really waiting for me,
though it seemed like it was.
instead, it was just doing what it does so well,
being beautiful.
being, now, summer.
deep in july and hot and dry and growing.
i went for a visit to toronto last week.
to see, amongst other things,
the magic feather cloth
friends wendy, hiroko, and dorothy;
 gifts were exchanged,
even joy, perhaps?
 these amazing women came 
to have a most entertaining lunch at the gardiner museum
and rich conversation after.
to be IN the city
and IN refuge IN the city.
my shifu thinking met up with wood worked beautifully
(below in some iphone play)
 there was also a treat for me
the magic feather cloth
briefly installed
by val, 
who left me instructions:
 i didn't mess with the cave,
touched the cloth.
 followed a featherstone path
 to find the grief book 
(velma's book of grief
my shifu and handmade paper book).
doing its job.
 there were many instructions to attend to
and i have a new last name.
and i am waiting
(val loves india, too!)
sometimes wendy's kids write poems,
(my grampians texture students remember me reading one to them)
val wrote,
thank you val, 
i love reading your words!
these words
 carried me to the textile museum
to see the works of hands
and i had to sit at this old leclerc
and would have wound it forward, gone to work weaving,
but the yarn was tight 
woven right up to the beater
kids delighted, but instead i talked about how this one was prepared
for patterning.
my feet played treadle dancing and my hands
wanted to wind warp formard.
these mirror pieces came home with me.
from sartaj's shop kinna sohna
and this scarf
of a million running stitches.

and now, back home.
all is well.
the soil is pretty dry, the birds still singing most babies fledged.
there was a medium sized four-legged
out last night at the new place.
bobcat? coyote? fox?
i was above, moonlit, a brief movement through the light
the one approached the porch,
a roof and many feet in the way.
i think a bobcat, but this morning, nothing to give that one away,
not even a scent for my uneducated nose.

my city time 
my country time

the gift of "black caps" 
these black raspberries had gone a little too far
in the fridge
while i was in toronto.
so i made a rich rich ink
thinking of my son ian and his friend nate
who made some once and left it
in the fridge for years.
 and ants got in 
and into the raisins
the honey
the sugar
and cornstarch.
but mostly the honeycombs.
 a huge cleaning ensued
including heat and beeswax and cloth and honey and dead ants.
even a dead honeybee.
 (ant trap added for a brief time)
because i lost quite a bit.
up front and center:
soma chocolate from toronto
wattle seed from australia.
and quite a bit of gelatin
for sizing paper.
ian and hannnah will see this cupboard
and be shocked by the tidiness!

Friday, July 15, 2016

black raspberry season

some call them black caps,
i learned black raspberry
whatever name,
they are delicious.
and because the rains came nicely as they were growing
they are particularly wonderful
i eat them happily
with steal cut oats,
real (not greek) yogurt,
& maple syrup
for breakfast.
(i could eat only breakfasts right now all day)
after morning walks.
 mysterious markings
 don't bother the nearby cattle
 and busy old sun
lifts above the highlines.
 but the early softness forfends
a hot one indeed.
and thunder storms, maybe.
 i printed some the other day
right before the realtor showed the house
 there were some distinct possibilities.
lovely to get back into the dye pot
i've been fighting a mild bug caused by a series of bug bites
at my hairline. (probably spider bites...)
 so it was good to print.
 the yellow surprises are, i think,
pollen rich daylily stamens.
funny thing about photo color here-these are a bit browner
rather than greyer, but 
i couldn't correctly correct them in iphoto.

Monday, July 11, 2016

major puddling

i've had an interest in printmaking 
for a long time
the way ink and pressure bite into paper is delicious
and the way paper supports ink is, too...
but i know absolutely nothing about it.
 so, with kind directions
on the simplest of printing techniques 
i tried a little bit
 i wanted to try paper and cloth
but i couldn't find any printing ink
(though i have some) 
so i made some from paint and wheat paste.
it was not terrifically successful
but then i tried that wheat paste and india ink
which was a bit better...
 anyway, i now have the vaguest idea
of what a monoprint is
and why i might find it useful
probably in a book.
i like the idea of words being almost but not quite unreadable
 busy getting some lokta ready
for kami-ito
(doubling the use of shanna's nifty weights as hand cushions)
three or four full sheets, 
which doesn't look like much 
 we had LOTS of needed rain
the land feels happy
 so do the birds
 opportunity presents
 a lovely driveway puddle
friend robin spends some moments
cleaning up.
i'm doing all kinds of cleaning up and out
emptying this old house of so much.
an artist's garage sale might be something of interest?
in any case,
there will be more trips to the transfer station.
or maybe i'll call the hauler.

Friday, July 8, 2016


i am a weaver
(my mom's birth name was weaver)
trained by a weaver
at university
not this weaver
but early this morning
a weaver wasn't showing up,
but had spun and woven
a beautiful web.
it's probably a grass spider, 
 a funnel weaver,
because i am a bit squeemish about spiders
i didn't try to temp it
into showing up
(though i thought about doing that)
 i know where the front door is
i was tempted to take this frisbee-sized web home
to spin into a thread for myself
i didn't.
i went out walking
just after the light show ended,
on this misty morning.
and then i heard the morning news.
there is no sense.
we are doomed.
too much violence.
too much.

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