Thursday, October 9, 2014

coyotes, nightly

they call, every night...
 We need to experience a landscape that is timeless, 
                                          whose agenda moves at the pace of speciation and glaciers. 
                               To be surrounded by a singing, mating, howling commotion of other species, 
                                                 all of which love their lives as much as we do ours, 
                                      and none of which could possibly care less about us in our place. 
                          It reminds us that our plans are small and somewhat absurd.     Barbara Kingsolver
 teri windling quoted barbara kingsolver today, 
and part of that quote is specially appropriate for me. now.
i borrowed it.
so many of you have checked in
about my wee disaster
and that caring is much appreciated.
and all is fine, except those folded papers, that is.
then i walk out and see
even my neighbors, the cows
fully engaged in cowishness
and i need to get on with being human.
being a fiber/book/papermaker
and a weaver.
 this whole adventure with weaving on the stump
began with a curiosity about those four selvedge peruvian weavings.
and here it is, a book about just that.
 i've woven tiny and slightly larger squares. 
hundreds of them
mostly moro-jifu
many many experiments have resulted and there are 
four stump looms now,
one especially for slot and tab pages.
 my dear therese sourced these beautiful japanese shuttles
and bamboo quills for me
perfect for weaving longer cloths 
on the little schacht 4 harness loom.
here is the stump,
a little worse for wear.
it's been across the country, to australia twice
and to canada with me.
and spent many evenings in my lap,
as i dream of those peruvians
of long ago.
and today in our classroom
a miracle:
three girls and one boy
ages 13-17
were singing along with the radio.
our injured, damaged, and dear students, 
happily singing, together.


Ms. said...

Must be seen I wrote to share with Face Book friends.--and the scene "It reminds us that our plans are small and somewhat absurd." Barbara Kingsolver

Velma Bolyard said...

michelle, thank you. i'm glad you liked this. there are so many things to be thankful for, coyotesong, neighbor cows, fiber...

jude said...

sometimes you seem like a coyote to me...

Valerianna said...

If I have the window open at night, I hear the coyotes, either near or far... brings me out of my sleep, wondering what they've caught. I like how distant calls makes me aware of space.

Heading out to the studio.. yipee! And yipee for singing along, that is good.

Anonymous said...

love the quote - why does it surprise me that we read the same blogs? do I NEED that book? hope the singing is a sign that your class is heading in a positive direction.

Gwen Diehn said...

Love this post, Velma. We have coyotes in our back field sometimes, and also in the woods in front of our house. I've never lived in a rural place before! A shock at first but eerie and wonderful now.

neki desu said...

hose shuttles are a joy to use.and the patina they develop with age!
beautiful quote. we're just a blink in Buddha's sleep

Margaret said...

I too hear coyotes 'harmonizing' on the edge of my rural Central Alberta hamlet. Sometimes they boldly walk into the edge of town. One may have made off with one of my cats lately...a risk living in the country.

About the folded paper...would gently ironing it be helpful...or harmful? If it is handmade, perhaps a light misting and then pressing? I work more with fabric than paper, but sometimes paper can act like and be treated like fabric... Just a thought.

Velma Bolyard said...

jude, ow-ooooooo, yip!
valerie, yes, don't they sound lovely!
jean, of course we do. i'll let you know about the book.
gwen, i was a village kid, living near other towns and farmland, but here, well, it's right up against the adirondack forest preserve. and it is forever wild, by legislation, but i think also by design.
neki, i can't wait to try them, not too different from your lovelies.
margaret, i will re-wet and press with weights, as ironing is WAY too harsh.

Bonnie Klatt said...

I LOVE that book, Peruvian Four Selvaged Cloth! Yes, weaving on those little wood-and-nails looms in that way connects us to those who wove that way in ancient times, those who weave now and those who will weave in the future. Such connectivity, community, and unity from a simple little tool. Thanks for this reminder and for the Barbara Kingsolver quote too.

Velma Bolyard said...

bonnie, glad you like that book, i somehow stumbled on it and have been loving it (only about 10 pages into it). good connections-

mansuetude said...

To sing together, to howl if we must, in our separations; to find again the harmonies of each orher. Beautiful.

Velma Bolyard said...

m, that's so beautiful!

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