scary business

being human is indeed scary business. 

there are joys, which i write about often.

there are, as nigel peake would call them, tiny adventures.

but when you get a telephone call from a tearful daughter that she's been in a bad accident.....................................................................................................................................................but she's ok and so is her guy.

well, it's life.

a small life,

it's what has rich meaning, but so does good work.

teaching and learning

making 

however ephemeral.

in my thoughts lately are ink, color, dye, pulp, and dead leaves as sarah swett calls them:

and here is my very poor handwriting, an ink pen and Atramentum ink,

on very rough abaca waterleaf.

 here are my tools

my first pen from when i was around 10 years old 

given to me by my second sister Carol 

and a never used but old nib

and a brush i made from white tail deer, waxed linen, and a bone knitting needle.

 the brush was more than funky, but also fun.

 the ink delicious on rough waterleaf unbleached abaca paper

 a weaver's web

 and a morning gift on my step

 one leaf from the grandfather maple

made into a home for tent caterpillar babies next year.

 there are plenty of these here, 

so it's ok to look closely,

unlike the monarchs which won't tolerate my scrutiny.

 this book, Songbirds and Daylilies is in the Artists' Book Cornucopia IX show.

                                                    this page is pretty large,  
                                               and covered with a days musings, 
                                                             summer 2016.

so hannah will be ok, 

and her boyfriend as well.

her car will have to be replaced and life will skitter along in beauty and grief and ridiculousness and joy.

and, with luck no more read enders.