I keep digging things out of the pile here. This one was about edges. Maybe how many ways I might soften an edge. Transitional yet honoring definition.
One thing defining the softness of another. A kind of kindness in difference.
A hint of oneness. A puzzle. A seam.
Lately, I have spent a lot of time, just burying hatchets, bury the hatchet, you know, forgiveness or less romantically, give it up already. I was surprised at how many hatchets there were really, some long forgotten but still there.
Anyway, I am done with them. Hatchets. I can see through them.
I’m seeing this cloth as a wild & worn sunflower-star!
School…complicated…so I’ll leave that alone for now and will instead that a coworker recently wore a T-shirt with the image/color of those old peechee folders. I about fell over gushing and sharing memories with her!
yes, I saw the sunflower today.
memories are the best for laughing.
I totally agree! Sometimes those laughing memories save us. Having those that share our history too, makes the remembering even better!
(((Jude)))talking about burying the hatchet, just saw Barren Land on Tuesday by Caroline Zilinsky (love her stunningly confronting & meticuloius work)
https://nandahobbs.com/exhibition/barren-land
then the gallery assistant showed me the self portrait Caroline painted in situ on the back wall of Mitchell Ferrie’s Opening Old Wounds
in a collaborative gesture she put one of his hatchet’s through her heart having recently split up with her partner
https://nandahobbs.com/exhibition/opening-old-wounds
hey just found this in my spam folder… thank you so much for this, now I want to consider hatchets….
Just when you imagine all the hatchets have been retrieved/released! I keep this note on my frig and read it regularly (from you): “dear self, there are so many kinds of weapons. don’t become one. love, self”
ha!
Those roughed up edges or frayed edges on the triangles are marvelous. Rough around the edges, but soft as well. Hope it was a cooler day for you.
it did cool down, relatively speaking,
YOU JUST DESCRIBED ME. I HAD STOMACH ACHES ALMOST EVERY DAY DOCTOR SAID IT WAS IN MY HEAD GUESS HE WAS RIGHT
these things run deep, no x-ray can find them.
Wyonne…me too. I spent so much time in the nurse’s office throughout grade school or at home “sick.” It got a little better in 7th grade and then worsened throughout high school. It was never the academics…always social dynamics. I so happy to be through with school.
I’m watching your YouTube videos. You never use a hoop or frame when stitching?
Occasionally, but mostly not…
loved school. great teachers. became one, but still a student. now in this thought-catching classroom with dear ragmates ‘n my favorite teacher of ALL time. EVER. and seeing hatchets buried “from both sides now”…
my mom was a nursery school teacher, she was great
Love the cut our flipped over triangles – softening the edge, changing the edge – It just speaks to me, now I must try it – thanks
i think I did a bot of that in Sun, Moon, Stars….
yes I did
https://spiritcloth.typepad.com/sunmoonstars/colored-flaps.html
Shy but not insecure. Even at 80 I dread social activities. School was a necessary evil. Unfortunately Fall doesn’t come here until October. Last night I dreamed I opened the front door and it was pouring rain. I wish…..
not sure where the shy comes from.
September was and is my favorite month. It is my birth month, the beginning of autumn, the start of what I consider my New Year , my favorite season, and the start of school. School to me was magic! As an immigrants daughter, my parents had very little schooling in Spain and stressed that my sister and I pay attention and do well in school, I was bound and determined to be the best student. Not at all shy, I spoke so much in class that sometimes, I was sent out in the hall as a punishment.
I learned to read before kindergarten and I could not wait to get school books. In the third grade, I brought home a report card filled with O’s…that tells you that I am an old woman because we had O’s, S+ and S instead of A, B or C for grades. I do not know what the equivalent for D or F was cause I never got them!
Well when I showed my Mother,my stellar report card, she , cried and spanked me because she thought the O’s were zeroes… Now she did not spank very often so this was a shock, I tried to tell her that O’s were the best grade but she did not understand so I ran next door to my cousins and waited for her to get home from high school. When I told her about my report card, she took me back home and explained to my M9om who was so upset that she had been mean to me. She called my Dad at work and told him to bring home ice cream and a cake from the local bakery to celebrate my good grades…I continued to bring home great report cards but somehow my third grade card that ended with ice cream and store bought cake, a rarity, is my favorite report card story.
Marti, I loved your report card story! Warmed my heart. Autumn is my favorite season and I adored elementary school. Hope you have some ice cream and cake next month.
I always got good grades in primary school, teacher’s pet and all that. My parents never seemed to care much about report cards. once there was note on one about how I used to draw in the book pages.
I do not remember ever being spanked.
Congratulations on freeing hatchets! I too am in that mode. It brings a lightening in my chest.♥️ The sight of the inside church of your fingers particularly bought me comfort and a smile. Thank you.
sometimes they are hiding.
Maybe this is what brings us, this group of seemingly kindred souls, together.
it is interesting how groups form around agreement, but how there is always more stuff…
I was a school nerd. I loved it. I was shy & insecure too, but could hide it behind academic performance. Mostly. Glad that’s behind me now. I’ll be thinking about your see-through hatchets and my own pile…
I was an overachiever until junior high. then, well, I couldn’t seem to focus on anything but my pimples.
Ive been listening to “The Body Keeps the Score”.
Its making me analyze myself and my relationships with other people. Understanding more of the why we are the way we are gives me the opportunity to show grace to those that have hurt me.
Evolution.
I do love the seam in your hands!
❤️
we all have a life, hard mostly to know the real life of another, unless they share it all which isn’t as easy as it sounds.
love that hand think too
Here in the midwest, the acorns and black walnuts are already falling. On my walks I come across shed cicada skins and upside down cicadas and near dead green beetles. I like to move the cicadas and beetles to the grass so that they have a dignity in death.
yes, nuts are falling.
i like your kind thoughts
I loved the fresh start of Autumn, the excitement of school ( which wanted quickly, ha!) The new clothes, notebooks, supplies etc…
Math ( yech)
Reading ( yay)
Art ( yes! Yes!! YESSSS!!!)
Forgiveness is good, it lightens the load.
We might actually get a “front” and see 70s in a couple days…
Say WHAT!??
We’ll take it, however brief it is!
Love these soft edges!💙💙💙
i did like the fresh new notebooks and making book covers.
I love how you are re-defining the edges. It looks very intuitive to me, like play. That is one aspect that I really connect with. Thanks for sharing your work and thoughts.
very much play, the learning game.
I was a school lover as a small child. Loved all the kinesthetics of newly sharpened pencils, a fresh Big Chief tablet and a pink eraser, brand new box of colors (though my favorite color was black. 🖤 One had to be brave loving that color in the midst of bluees!). Could’ve done without the math…😏 And then came junior high and high school…everything changed, and I began to appreciate the social things..
Now I avoid the social things (when possible) and still love the supplies for creative endeavors!
Oh my, that sounds like me! I loved school starting but thinking now that it was a matter of loving the school supplies rather than the school. Like Jude I was shy and insecure. At one point my mother who was tired of coming to get me from getting in trouble for daydreaming in class told me that the next time I could walk home. Being shy that didn’t bother me!!
up to 5th grade was cool, after that they bussed us to a high school because of space issues and that was not cool.