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,
gratitude.
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,
only
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
for
a
poem.
(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
above
my country time
below
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.
delicious!
and quite a bit of gelatin
for sizing paper.
ian and hannnah will see this cupboard
and be shocked by the tidiness!
