This weekend I spent some time looking back over the last 77 posts.
Thinking about enough.
Enough time.
Enough resources.
Letting things be good enough.
(After 7 or 8 dips this is blue enough)
Enough as in "all done".
(Hazel says "Enough, time to cuddle.")
What is enough to keep children safe? To keep each other safe?
So much depends on...
Enough.
This evening I am stitching binding onto the edge of a jacket and thinking about how we are all on edge, all altered...
(I am okay, just tired.)
"How are you" has become an interesting question.
"Fine" doesn't seem right and yet fine is a wonderful thing.
"Good enough," I usually answer.
Mostly I am distracted. Not sure of what I want to say or why.
Maybe a daily assignment would help?
A daily photo. Because it is something that I can do. For one hundred and nineteen days, mid August.
Posted here because it's the platform that I like the best. Because everyone who has internet, has access.
There might not always be words, maybe not an image. I'm not quite sure where I am going with this, but mostly I think...exploring what is good enough?
From my journal, inspired by John Franzen via India Flint.
The "On Being" podcast is one of my favorite things to listen to while working on projects. This weekend I listened to an episode with Sandra Cisneros that is being added to my favorites list.
"You know how you look at a tree, and there are some rings that had a lot of rain, and it gets really bigger, and they shrink. Well, we can say that about our own years and what defined us or what happened to us in those years." Sandra Cisneros
I tried to draw a ring for each year of my life in my journal but ran out of space.
I made a stitched ring too, although not as big.
This is the front side.
I love the soft edge where the two pieces of fabric joined.
I was there to meet Hazel and for a class with with Christine Mauersberger, at the Pacific Northwest Art School.
Wish I had more time to make post cards but it was back to work quickly for me.
In the morning before class I would go down to the pier.
It was two blocks away from where I was staying
I find my most true self when I am down by the water.
One evening Hazel and I watched the sunset and the moon rise.
It was magical time.
Worlds blended and resorted and came together differently.
A little alteration made a heron that would have blended in more visible.
Perhaps that is what considering does....
From the garden.
Yummy yellow beans and lemon cucumber.
Goldenrod from the garden at work.
I brought some home to do some dyeing with, but really need to transplant some of it in my garden.
It's on the endangered list at work...Goldenrod looks a bit weedy and it's in the front entry way.
Cleaning up the yarn stash.
Saying yes to play.
The babies are growing up.
Three layers + one filter.
1. The mama and baby deer that have been in the neighborhood are doing fine. It's risky though, they graze in yards along a very busy road.
2. I am currently reading Seaweed Chronicles, A World at the Water's Edge by Susan Hand Shetterly. Right now my imagination has been particularly captured by the idea of the seaweed equivalent of roots, a holdfast.
3.
While knitting or stitching I'm listening to H is For Hawk by Helen Macdonald.
Current bus project, shawl for dye pot in progress:
Mostly sewing this:
Robe started in Jude's (Spirit Cloth) second Contemporary Boro class.
"You can tell a lot about a garden and about its gardeners by monitoring how weeds are attended to."
This week I have been revisiting a garden book I like...Gardening at the Dragon's Gate by Wendy Johnson.
Layers.
Inspiration gathered from many sources.
A myth in the making. Once there was a dragon that lived in a cold dark sea and dreamed of warmth...
Study.
Absorb.
Growing.
We have a garden party coming up next week where I work. Families are invited to come, plant something with their children and spend time with us. We will grow all sorts of vegetables, herbs and flowers for cutting. There is a little forest area we are trying to reclaim. It is being planted with natives.
Nourish.
Paneer + cauliflower + raisins + rhubarb + spices (cumin, chipotle, ginger, pepper)
From Teju Cole’s book, Known and Strange Things:
“There is another possible book that contains all that is not in this one.”
I put myself on the wait list for a few of Teju Cole's books after listening to his interview on On Being.
I've read a few of the essay's, enough to know I want to find a copy to keep, to take time with.
Counting stitches for a sleeve.
Stitching with plant dyed fabric, some printed silk that I've had for a long time.
It's May and the first rose is blooming and I may be absorbed into the garden...