For a variety of reasons, I need to get in the habit of posting in the morning.
Today's 15 minute project.
And, I take a lot of comfort in Wendell Berry's poetry. Today there is this:
"I have planted by the stars in defiance of experts." From "The Contrariness of the Mad Farmer."
Wendell Berry
Thinking a lot about where we get information, how we form opinions, what we consider truth.
The power of words.
A few things I listened to again tonight:
"The Language Issue" by Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill.
And this, "Let This Darkness be a Bell Tower" by Rainer Maria Rilke.
Even after the week of cold weather...
It was really sheltered for most of it though.
It's on the edge of a shrub that bent over with the weight of the snow, covering it completely.
The first day of the year was stormy here.
Lots of wind, some rain.
Spent a lot of time writing in my journal and doodling.
I see some possibilities for stitching.
My word for the year is "intention."
(Or at least for a little while.)
It is not only a planned action, but also the healing process of a wound.
Isn't that interesting?
In knitting a thread can be run through a row of stitches to keep the stitches from unraveling. It creates a stopping point when you need to unravel.
It's called a lifeline.
In boating terminology is the line that a crew member or passenger on a boat might be attached to so that they don't fall over.
I am starting to add stripes to the "next" sweater, starting with green.
Green for growth.
Green as a lifeline.
Thundershowers again this morning.
I've been untangling a skein of yarn and listening to "On Being."
The latest episode is "Poetry Unbound" and has so much.
Maybe the most important to me, at least at this very moment:
"Poetry is a fairly solitary art. While it can, sometimes, get shared in books or in readings, mostly poems are written by a person, alone, with a computer or with a pen or a pencil. And that can be lonely, but, also, it can be a magnificent way to find a language that suits yourself, in those alone hours, maybe in the morning, maybe late at night. But, in so doing, you can find a language for yourself that can help you survive." Pádraig Ó Tuama
Autumn. Fall.
(Hops and Golden Rain Tree)
Gather. Harvest.
Rumination (thinking about cows digesting not obsessive thinking), fermentation, thinking, composting, pondering, processing, making, creating...
List making,
verbs of transition.
Actions.
Monday's windstorm dried the leaves on the shrubs.
Windburn.
I am home today, had considered going to the park that runs along the bay to sit and knit; early in the morning, before it might be crowded.
But...the air quality seems to be getting worse, not better. And again, after days of wearing a mask I want a day off.
There is the dehydrator to load up with plums, celery, a bit of kale, maybe some more carrots, a few more tomatoes. I am stocking up a bit more than I usually do to make it through the winter eating locally.
The goal for the weekend is to deal with a stack of scraps piled in the living room.
Another Good Enough COVID 19 square. In reds, oranges and gray...a wildfire square.
And I will knit more, both on the poncho of seawater blue/green that makes me think of smoky skies now too and the next sweater that I have started.
Stir the indigo vat, put more fiber in.
I like that indigo dyed yarn stains wooden needles as it rubs along.
Call them a swatch or a what if.
I have a whole bag of them (plus a few worn out hand knit socks, one felted mitten and a moth eaten hat) and need to decide what I am going to do with them.
Another old journal page, cut into a heart and then glued on top of a doodle in my current journal.
Lola's heart patch.
Since reading Jude's post this morning I've been thinking about the word "love." I don't think it's possible to use it too much with the people that matter to us (making sure that people know they are important, that they are valued, that they matter), but it is possible to use it too much as praise. It can get all messed up with validation and motivation. Especially with young people.
And yet it always is something that I appreciate hearing. And there are things we, as a species, don't love enough (planet Earth for example).
It's a slippery word.
Still thinking...
Block four.
This one tilts a lot.
It contains scraps from other projects, including 6 pieces of clothing that I am still wearing.
The word I am considering today is subconscious.
I've been doodling in my journal a lot lately...