bee creative

windows and doors

One more window picture for the moment...Widget looking out.

From yesterday's off-line journal entry:

5:12 PM watching a spider outside the window. The differences between windows and doors. Windows being for letting light in, for looking out. Doors for passing through…although you can go in and out windows.

The problem, of course, with going in and out windows is that you look suspect...up to no good or there is a fire.

Another thought...looking in windows is usually frowned upon unless it's a store.

For awhile there was a "pop-up" exhibit in a store downtown.  It had been set up as a living space.

more time in the garden

The roses are blooming.

The bees are busy.

A guest in the garden.

I leave as much of the Dame's Rocket in the garden as I can for them.

A little doodle and a question.

What if instead of answering the question "What do you want to be when you grow up" with a career we thought more broadly?

What kind of a person do we want to be?

And just when are we "grown up?"

 

three words

Indigo

Play

Sweet

hope

A day in the garden does wonders...clearing, organizing, preparing, planning, a bit of planning. 

There will be rhubarb soon.

I was lectured by a hummingbird, given the stink eye by an opossum and an eagle circled above my head.  The little birds flew in and out of the garden chatting as they passed by.

It's their world too.

I also did some stitching.  Nancy made me think of trains...

So I started a train for the Peace and Plenty blanket.

And at the end of the day there was the comfort of dinner with friends (Hazel!).

Before going in to the restaurant (the first time in 7 months), I sat in the sunshine on a bench watching people play.  There is a green space in this area, surrounded by stores, restaurants and apartments.

After coming home, I thought about everything happening in the world and the conversation on On Being with Colette Pichon Battle.  It is an important one, about climate change, full of many things to consider. 

"I think I’ve learned that even people who are — who see the world differently from you, they love something. And if we take the time to share what we love with one another, we can see each other’s humanity, and we can feel each other’s value. And if we can connect in a real way, that’s what we need to accompany each other, because some of what is going to be asked is that you just let me be."

I love that she uses the term "care economy," it's one to hold on to. 

On climate change, there is also this:  "These Climate Scientists Are Fed Up."

I am going back out to the garden again today.

There are things we can do.

 

 

something bright

It was there.

Outside the window last night.

I like this version.

Layered with something like a map.

Outside the window this morning:

No layers, just as it is.

This morning's cooking project.

Kumquats and honey, something saucy for yogurt.

Flavors can be bright.

Looking for the bright.

the maybe

On paper:  I glued in the lunaria and part of a paper label from a spool of thread.

And then 3 digital layers and a filter.

I've been thinking about daily practices and know this is one that I can sustain.

"The maybe" this morning, which was on a page I picked randomly in this journal, made me think about my use of "think."

I "think" a lot.

"Think" is a kind of maybe.

It implies possibilities.

It keeps conversations (consider this link a treasure hunt) open.

To "believe" or to "Know" is more absolute.

(Is one more absolute than the other?)

"Know" is a certainty and a

Commitment.

 

mending time #2

This morning's mending.

mending time

This morning I've been mending the shirt I want to wear today.

I wanted to stitch a message on the seam but there isn't enough time so I went with a star on the sleeve.

It's a little crooked.

Make a wish...

some thoughts

This morning I finished reading The Overstory.

For me it's the kind of book that is savored slowly. Read a bit and then put down.  And then as always happens at a certain point, a rush of reading until the end. And then that kind of hollow feeling when you don't know what to do next.

It made me cry a little bit (I cry easily when it comes to sad parts in books and movies). And I thought, the stories that feel most true hurt at least a little bit. This is not a book that would be classified as "entertainment."

I started thinking about the ability that exists to create worlds so real that we become a part of them, absorb into them. The connection of language and imagination, how our brains function to make worlds created from words or images become real, at least for a little bit.  The ability to create.

I paused as I read this book a little more than usual.  There are sentences that just need to be sat with for awhile. Like this one, "Civilized yards are all alike.  Every wild yard is wild in its own way."  And another one, "When you cut down a tree, what you make from it should be at least as miraculous as what you cut down." 

Some pauses were more personal. 

What do we feel so passionately about that we will protest a stand taken by someone else, and to what degree? 

Thinking about family history and "family trees."

The simplest description I would give of The Overstory is that it is about whether we are a part of the natural world or whether the natural world provides resources for us to use.

I am wondering, what will someone 50 years from now think reading this book?

 

10 minutes or so: knitting because it soothes me

Of all kinds of making I think that knitting or crochet soothes me the most.  There doesn't have to be thinking, just motion on repeat.  Yarn that keeps coming for long than a needle can hold thread. 

This morning, listening to Wendell Berry read, "The Peace of Wild Things" here.

(The creek has been high the last few weeks.)

And Mary Oliver reading "Wild Geese," here.

Imagining the two of them having a conversation.

(Not the best photo as it was taken through the window, but oh it made me laugh!)