bee creative

arrangement, day four

My aunt sent these to me, something she found at my grandparents and thought I would like.

I do, thank you!

Yesterday morning I woke up mid dream.

  Mary Oliver was telling me something. 

I wish I could remember what.

playing, but not

 

To return to the On Being conversation with Christiana Figures, she introduced me to a new to me word...glocalization;

"think global, act local."

Thinking about that as I move pigment dots around...

local color, sharing globally.

The two small circles are the pigments that I made from rocks. The moment that I hit the rock and it shattered...I don't know that I've shared how that felt. 

Amazement, awe...a sense of gratitude.

Rocks are so old. 

To transform a rock to something else, it's something to do with respect.

 

And here, a little something different. 

Pigment made with willow leaves +  pressed leaves from high bush cranberry (viburnum family) and red twig dogwood.  The willow not native to this area, the other two are.

Looking closer gives a better sense of the willow pigment,

there along the edge...liminal space.

 

 

on the table

Mostly it's been a stormy  weekend.  Early Saturday morning there was a gust of wind measured at 63 MPH. 

During this week's On Being interview with Christiana Figueres, Krista Tippett says,

"When I was growing up, when you were growing up, the weather was a matter of small talk. The weather and the seasons had a predictability that was a rhythm of our lives, and how quickly that has shifted, and we just kind of — It’s so interesting to me and a little bit terrifying how we so quickly move into accepting that there’s fire season."

I was stitching the edges of a cloud patch while I listened to this. 

It is the wind season, the season of power outages and floods.

The cloud patch is now attached to my blanket that I call "Peace and Plenty." It's the name of the quilt square that is on the upper right hand side. 

(There was another cloud close to this spot, it has been temporarily been removed.)

Somewhere on the blog I know I have shared about this blanket (it's mostly 2 layers so not a quilt) but I want to share again.

It started as a memory blanket for my grandfather.  The chambray fabric in the Peace and Plenty squares are from my grandfather's work shirts, the ones he wore gardening. 

Originally the plan was to have a whole quilt of the squares but I needed a blanket and started stitching everything that was handy together and they just seemed to fit. 

I've been adding patches to it for awhile now and suspect that eventually it will be more patches than not.

It is becoming a story quilt, every patch and mend making the story more clear to me. 

I am thinking about choice, and trust, and love...and other things too. 

 

 

lost count of "waste not"

It was windy this morning, gusts up to 40 MPH.

The ground is covered with leaves and pine needles. 

I am calling it mulch and it will stay there.

When the hedges were planted, I didn't really consider fall color and yet it is glorious. Especially the red twig dogwood, highland cranberry (a type of viburnum and native) and the cherry and the apricot trees.

Today's lake pigment, carrot tops (along with the mullein).

Today's sewing project.  It's been sitting in the finish pile for awhile.  The top is made of two light jackets that didn't fit well.  They were cut apart and reassembled. I've hemmed the neckline and arm holes and should be able to finish the bottom this evening. 

(Yes, bare feet.  The high was 63 F.)

Much better than it was!

I've lost count of "waste not" projects.  It doesn't really matter as it's how I want to approach everything...always aiming for zero waste.

transformation

Earlier this week, just before sunrise. 

I wanted a sense of the color and was surprised to realize I also captured an image of Venus (I am pretty sure.).

Today, walking on the boardwalk. 

Thinking about how the rocks are always changing, even if very slowly.

And how water and sky can change so quickly. 

I also watched a seal for awhile.

This is the bottom of the jar that the red cabbage pigment was in. 

It says so much about transformation. 

There has been some sewing. 

I am reclaiming two pieces of clothing.  One with a bleach stain and another that had a torn sleeve. 

Both are vests now with patches and pockets.

still growing

Farmer's market trip today:

Grown in hoop houses...the last of the local strawberries and probably zucchini and cucumbers.

I also stopped at the local bookstore to pick up a book I'd ordered...Prairie Up. Maybe a bit of a strange thing, but it was on the "recommended reading" list for the ruderal and invasive pigment class. I loved the phrase "pocket prairie" that I found.

The other two books caught my eye... The World Central Kitchen Cookbook   has the best chapter names, including "hope" and "joy." 

While I was paging through the books I noticed the charcoal ink sitting in the sun...how it sparkles. 

Thinking about charcoal as a fertilizer in the garden.

And then the pigment that I made with a rock last week.

A rock that would have eroded to soil eventually. 

Even as a pigment, it might grow something...

 

what might hold us up

Yesterday I updated my CPR/first aid card, went to the beach and then the farmer's market.

At the beach, I picked up one clam shell, one oyster shell and a piece of brick. I noticed the way that some of the old posts are breaking down; looked at the mix of broken clam and mussel shells, the rocks, glass, and brick. 

Wondered about the things I couldn't see...not just the physical but also stories and history.

Thinking about erosion. 

I listened to the On Being podcast with Baratunde Thurston for a second time and read the transcript.  During the "On Being" conversation he talks about "citizen" as a verb and describes it with four principles: to show up, invest in relationships, to understand power and all the different ways we have it and to value the collective. 

It seems so timely with everything that I am thinking about. 

I've started listening to some of the episodes of his podcast "How to Citizen."  I know that I will be listening to more.  One thing that I love is that the episodes include suggestions for reflection and action...participation!

It's hard to push past (edited, what I mean here is to think of anything else other than...) what is happening in our world right now, on so many fronts.  Some of the instructions given during the CPR/first aid class: stop for a moment and slow down, assess the situation, start over when you have to.

I am holding this thought close, the one that has been in my side bar for years and is one of my touchstones:

"It's not about healing the world by making a huge difference. It's about healing the world that touches you, that's around you." Rachel Naomi Reman

 

One thing I can do right now...

The two pots yesterday.  The pot with the mullein has been simmered for a few hours. The willow has just been soaking but I will heat the water soon and see if the fabric will absorb more color.  The fabric was soaked in a mordant.

Thinking about the act of absorbing.

There is enough fabric to make a top, both pieces are leftover from other projects.  I will probably over-dye with indigo to make a green.

Both of these plants (although maybe not this specific willow) are sometimes considered invasive.  Both have traditional healing qualities, color to share and their own natural beauty.

Thinking about the definition of ruderal again...

plants that grow where the ground has been disturbed.

 

 

 

healing things

Yesterday I spent a few hours working on the quilt that I named

GOOD enough COVID 19. 

The name had a lot to do with letting things be good enough during difficult times. 

As I've worked on it another name has come...

Holding Breath.

 One of my reactions to stress over the last few years has been holding my breath.  It's kind of ironic because at least once a day, while at work, I coach an upset child to take a deep breath. 

There are other reasons the name fits, how the cloth used for masks held our breath the most obvious.  When I think about the years we lived with Covid as a pandemic, so much of it will be about breath.

Filling the gaps between the squares.  What is working the best for me is to:

1. stitch 3 sides of a strip
2. place it right side to right side with one of the blocks
3. stitch down the fourth side along one of the blocks
4. flip the strip over to cover the gap
5. stich in place

 

 

As I work towards piecing all the squares together, 6 feet by 6 feet, I think a lot about distance, about making things fit. 

This is the other memory I will  hold on to as I think about the pandemic.

And then I started thinking about bandages.

That was random, but maybe not.

The theme might have been continued by making calendula salve but really it just had been on the to-do list for too long.

I think of this as healing our environment...waste stream, invasive, ruderial.

The golden is buddleia, in process, and the khaki is the bindweed pigment, mulled and with a binder added. 

When the bindweed pigment was wet I thought it looked like the color of Gibson and Timber's eyes. 

Bindweed, morning glory...coming back to thinking about names.

Does healing start with naming?

 

just hanging on

A couple nights ago I woke up to Gibson draped across the crocheted table runner I had hung for a curtain...the one on the top that he is just pulling himself over in this picture. His front legs were suspended to one side and his back legs to the other. I am sure he would have found a way down but I rescued him before he broke something.

This morning I caught him in the act climbing up the other panel. Both runners are down for repairs now.

 

While visiting a nursery today I found a few things for the garden and visited a little with this garden helper.

And this one too.  It was a lovely afternoon.

Hoping to get back to some sewing soon but I also have some more colors to play with.  This is goldenrod in the center and cosmos for the petals. It had more pigment at first but a lot brushed off as it dried.  Something to problem solve... or maybe accept.

the blue collection

This morning I finished mending the pillowcases I recently dyed blue.

I haven't cut the afghan I knit yet but am still planning to. It's lovely to wrap up in right now, like a giant shawl. I've done that a couple of nights when I've gone out to look for northern lights or falling stars.

Blueberry ink made from some very wrinkly tired blueberries.  It isn't strained so it has some speckling. 

Maybe better that way?