learning reflection

 in salida

there wee hints of rains

that swept over

 there were rooftops

 a reminder "we are here" on the hill

across the river from town

and how really dry this high desert is

 this place, richard's old shop

 i went into every day

and worked

 and i just made samples

and samples

 and journaled

 i would see this early

and be reminded

 and cook up a few plants

in roberta's pots

 tragically stained

 origami book

rice grass

more samples

shop door

another shop door

habu paper and silk

moroshifu

i made a new stump loom

or two

susan's yard/garden

terraphilia guesthouse

and here.

~~~

i'm settling back into the north

at first my skin was grateful

and i have also

packed my classroom and my office for a move.

mowed the grass twice!

caught up on sleep

rejoiced in the lightning bugs

have been tickless (so far)

seen friends and heard the news

that diary page above

is now thread

waiting to be woven.

i was without my macbook

for three days,

so i've been a little quiet here.

but i'm back!

here/away

 public signage/art/joy 

maybe?

 i don't know about this woman

but during art walk

there was a tall woman with her dogs 

(she was a stilt figure and the dogs were girls)

and i heard the phrase "mud people"

 one of two sore thumbs

short nails are not designed

to be bast scraping tools

 on the milkweed

i found this wee one,

and susan and i sourced 

a new, living milkweed for it

along ditch creek

 half a b(l)ast

this reminds me

 i love this flower

it looks like it's from 

elsewhere

shifu play on a couple of stump looms

~~~

during artwalk helen hiebert

and her kids came to visit!

her first book

with its profiles of many papermakers

 helped me approach new plants

in my papermaking

(that book along with the amazing lilian bell

plant fibers for papermaking)

~~~

one thing among many that moved me,

a careful, every page reading of the hortus siccus exemplar

by an artist visitor

and a comment

about it being the finest book he'd read

in a long time.

strawberries and lettuce

 one of the magical things

about being artist in residence 

here

 is how fine things are.

simple, thoughtful.

this place is thoughtful, even

it feels like it breathes easy.

 but more,

when i arrived,

discombobulated from 14+ 

 hours of traveling

i was greeted

 by susan's mindfulness

everywhere.

 in the refrigerator

were strawberries and lettuce.

berries sweeter than sweet

tiny, old fashioned ones,

and a head of lettuce.

susan told me the varieties,

 but i was so sleepy i forget their names.

she had picked, washed, and prepared them

for me. 

there were other good things to eat

including a very special honey yogurt.

 i met with the arts council here

and had a lovely dinner

good conversation,

and was gifted with a travel stipend

to my happy surprise.

tomorrow is the arts walk

and i'll set up a little table to greet my new neighbors.

 susan's husband richard cabe

who died from brain cancer over a year ago,

is a happy presence here

 susan's web presence

 richard and susan breathed life into this old building

a shop/studio that is pleasant to work in

 not pretty or perfect, 

but beautiful

in the everydayness of the place

which is why i love being here.

 i've only wandered off once so far

and found a pelican

who knew my only photo was so pathetic

this is a rock book

one of five i made a while back

that richard liked

this photo surfaced as i was thinking about him

and this legacy of terraphilia

and susan, my incredible host.

i'm liking the contrast of visiting the high desert,

but yesterday's 105 temperature

was, by susan's measure and mine,

a bit much.

bluer

ian's evening sky

winds all day yesterday

smoke seems to have blown out for a bit

(or maybe not, i don't know this place much)

and i don't smell it now, anyway.

but the morning sky is bluer and the mountains

are black/deep green/tan

(is that snow on a ridge?)

smoke in the air, maybe

dust on my shoes

removed by the door.

the longing for water.

a creek cantering by

willows drought dead, now revive

hug the edges and hide.

different than home

so beautiful and i want to say

vital, tenacious, fragile and gifted to me

for a fortnight.

 proto paper!

 one of two big tables

portals 

 lokta

for india 

a benign face in the posts and beams

blogger won't let me upload todays pictures. 

no matter, yesterday's will do.

we're getting to know each other

this brick place and me.