Monday, September 26, 2016


I dreamed I saw my mother in the woods looking for her mother.
I certainly couldn't help as I had no idea where to look.
So I stand in the middle of a Mother Line holding a tattered end in one hand and raw fiber in the other, waiting to spin, reconcile, unite, these things. Noticing how the word "untie" only needs the transposition of two letters to make "unite."
It is women's work.


Thursday, September 22, 2016


A labyrinth is something I'd always wanted to create when these two feet landed on a piece of earth we could call our own. That creation took many years because I'd been operating under the erroneous idea that one needed flat, clear land to make the perfect seven-circuit layout. A photo from Beth Owl's Daughter's blog gave inspiration in another direction. And so we built our own in a small patch of naturally semi-cleared woods.

As I walked our rugged labyrinth with equinox offerings in hand, I thought of the things I like about its imperfections. The walk ways aren't perfectly spaced. Life feels tight sometimes. Expansive at others. There are acorn tops under bare feet that stick and hurt. Better to pay attention. Roots and stumps and holes come across the pathway. Ain't that just like Life to trip you up sometimes? Step over, step around, work with it as best you can. Trees are included for hugging. Isn't it good to know you're not always alone? Parts of the labyrinth are uphill. Other parts downhill. An easy metaphor.

Then when at the center, leave a little something. An apple, a shot of whiskey, a thought, a dream, a tear. The route to Return holds similar joys and perils. No one said it would be easy, but you've certainly came out with more than when you went in.

Photos from the labyrinth playfully manipulated with Prisma on Android.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016


Orly Avineri's deck.
This past winter, I procured a deck of Orly Avineri's The (art) Journaling Game. I've been enjoying the rich imagery and delicious prompts these past two weeks. (This deck inspired me to create my own Tarot.)
Today I got to burn holes.

Sometimes, I like to include the snippet of a conversation into what I'm doing. I thought of writing, It's not always going to be like this. A string of words that apply to transient situations. There won't always be grueling Calculus homework. It won't always be so difficult to navigate college. Life won't always be so bright. It's a statement that defines both times of ease and challenge.

But then, I heard this song too many times this morning . . .

This spread started with one thought, but then another emerged.
(Words shamelessly borrowed from Grace Vanderwaal.)

My mother and grandmother in 1962 with sanded stitches.

Some rips went through to the other side.

Another copy at the edge.

For the love of linen thread.

Monday, September 19, 2016


There aren't many flowers this time of year in the northern hemisphere. Or rather, they are hidden and catch one by surprise. Tired tomato plants laden with the last of the fruit. Tired echinacea withered and brown. And I'm just here putting things together on whimsy. Then the left hand writes the synonyms.

Still in love with linen thread.

Sewing before words.

Made/Maid of Flowers.
Get what I did there?

Saturday, September 17, 2016


We went for a boat ride down the Hudson River to Pollepel Island to where Bannerman's Castle still stands. After walking in certain designated areas, we waited for solar lights to shine in Melissa McGill's Constellation installation.

And I want to tell you it was beautiful, because it was.

However, Pollepel Island was once a place where people would steal away to. It now feels like that's been stolen. A feeling that couldn't be shaken.

But, hey, go see it anyway. Because it was beautiful.


Friday, September 16, 2016


Which is the opposite of this.

A long time ago, in Photography 101, I did some old fashioned photography developing that involved creating contact sheets. Negatives laid directly on photosensitive paper under glass and exposed to light resulted in tiny photos. From these, one would hunch over with a loop to find the best photos out of the bunch for further, larger developing. Digital has done away with all that. It's cute my printer functions include creating a "contact" sheet, but I can usually see everything long before I choose to print it. The other function on my printer I like to employ is the wallet-sized photo option which makes it look like a contact sheet only larger. And that was my fun for today.

Turn the page. Start another. And that's the momentum. I'm on this crazy course of continuation. While three bags full of fleece wait to be cleaned and carded. While knitting projects are waiting to manifest. While dishes soak. While the laundry becomes a mountain.

No arresto momentum here, by golly.

My mother would have been 68 today. Now she's art and memories.

Middle of nowhere.
It's not my fault you're lost.

Tuesday, September 13, 2016


Autumn Equinox isn't far off. We'll all be in the middle of it in the northern hemisphere soon enough. The raccoons are bashing the metal poultry feed cans in the early hours, crashing into our fitful slumber. Things are getting hungry, stocking up, gathering.

I am gathering images and paint. Moments and quotes collected on slips of paper. 
And so the simplicity of orange and teal are enough.

A found photo from the Family Album stock pile with an image from Mellissae Lucia's Oracle of Initiation and just enough paint.