time and change in balance

i have put my name on a piece of paper~

a purchase agreement

selling my oldfarmhouse

and moving to the place i've been calling home, if all goes to plan.

this weekend, a warmer (relatively) night

the first night i've heard a welcome home timberdoodle

winging circles overhead.

also my first robin.

spring happenings hereabouts. 

here is my little beaver essay

a small black dot

 middle rear ground, just in front of the ice

moves left, becoming a log shape,

swims to center then left again

before coming close to me on the bridge, 

then swimming away.

not one tail smack, 

so this beaver wasn't worried about me.

and in the last photo it's heading towards me

standing on the bridge taking rotten quality phone photos

 this place moves me deeply

 and then i looked up!

 back down

 and 

 the next morning was cold and sunny

ice skirting streamside treetrunks

 i drive this road home to the farm

 where i found more springing

 and then a worm moon

 see the nest?

there's a ring around the moon

 and this is the best my little camera can do

hannah is moving me from blogger, with whom i have struggled

back to squarespace where my website lives

sometime this weekend.

fingers crossed i can adjust and we can converse on the blog

because blogger won't let me talk with you.

springing again

in march the sky is sometimes like this

though snow still covered the land 

(there's much less now,

only patches in shadyplaces)

 it's still pretty darn cold

 but spring is in the air

the deer are moving alot.

 one is hiding against this elevated deer hunting thing

at my neighbor's hedgerow.

 soon i'll be on my way to idaho 

for a talk and two days of kami-ito and shifu making

(see the last post)

i return and head to portland to peddle my wares at the book arts bazaar.

.

i'll have papers and books and prints.

and below,

these prints are really that strong. 

wild color gifts from the pot's alchemy,

even a few eucalyptus leaves harvested 

at codex.

 this little book that i carried home from melbourne that last time

is letterpress printed

(on lousy paper, unfortunately)

but it's cool 

and i'm wondering what would happen 

if i combined some of it with some other imagery...

this is how it begins...

another book.

 our bookish group met and we made little blizzards

all over my table

using up some drawings.

 a ruffed grouse was checking out the backyard 

 finding something left behind as the snow melts

 looking like the local name: partridge

 until there's something to attend to

 then the crown appears

and away with you!

no ruff display on this photo op.

there may be some news

soon.

but not just

yet.

more daylight

i just read someone's comment on facebook:

soon we'll have more daylight because of the time change.

what?

haven't they been looking around?

even here, 

in this long harsh winter with little sunshine,

the days grow longer, 

even if they are snowy 

and windy 

or just really cold,

so cold,

 i turned back on my walk the other day.

that person needs to go outside.

[as if the human grid of time

has a way of shaping the arc of days.]

inside i've been making prints.

really fine colors, patterns

appearing

happily surprising me.

 looking out my windows midday in the 9 degree wind

i saw a very hungry youngster

braving my yard 

for cedar.

hoping for food, 

eschewing that scary road.

 glad i dropped some bits from the twigs i gathered for printing.

but it's not enough to make that belly warm.

 meanwhile, 

keeping my hands busy, 

i spun up thread while waiting out the bitter winds.

i found a little of the leftover old lokta* to spin up.

here it is,

looking lovely in the early morning sun 

today.

*thanks to my australian friends

karen and robyn

and as some of you might observe, 
i deleted the swear word.
it's not my call to condemn if folks don't pay attention to 
their days.
and it's hysterical that daylight fades their curtains
within a timeframe that only they
can understand. 
here, the sun fades things if and when it does.
not, i might add, the contact prints on paper
or not that i've observed.
not once. ever.

marching orders

i love march and november

for the way the landscape opens and you can see

really see 
the bones of the land.

here it means hard walking,

 in november risky hiking,
(hunting season).

in march it can be mud season

or, like now, a foot or so of good snow.

i haven't been on skis this winter

mostly an arthritis in my foot issue.

but i do get out a bit and tromp in my mighty sorels.

today i collected arbor vitae (white cedar) and fern fruiting bodies

for the prints i folded, built, wrapped and cooked this afternoon.
i cut up some paper for kami-ito.

in the mail came a couple of things, this:

 japanese indigo in a soft mattress of fine flax

ready for spinning

from two looms textiles

and socks.

and then naomi velasquez sent this tonight

because i'm headed to idaho to teach shifu

at the end of the month.

i'd love to meet you there!

~~~

in other news:

i have seed for the spring: 

indigo and flax.

oh joy,

oh rapture.

~~~

tomorrow my what is an image class meets 

to make paper...

images.