Wednesday, October 31, 2012

No words have come to me the last little bit of time. Days have gone by. Then weeks. Still no words. Perhaps after all is said and done with my evening postings on all things internet I have reached a dry well of words.  Nothing but dust at the bottom of that wordless well. In place of writing tonight, I am just going to leave a drawing from my sketchbook, the one I keep by my wine colored leather chair in the living room and draw in as I watch television. My mind wanders, my brain is absorbed in conversations not of my own making and my hands are free to draw. Absentmindedly, I travel from this chair, this soft cushioned spot and begin a nightly journey to other places that exist solely in the interior of my mind.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

What began as a sleepy and lazy Sunday, after a night of sleeping so lightly that every sound, movement and light woke me up; ended with a quick stroll on east beach on Marrowstone Island in the fading light of a chilly autumn afternoon. As a friend said, it was where so much of my courtship with Phil happened and it still holds such a special and deep spot in my soul. The wind kept me cold and bundled but the air was so fresh and crisp that I felt like I was breathing pure energy. Amazing how just even the tiniest bit of time at the beach revitalizes me and I actually was able to finish a job that had been on my to do list for more than a week.

Friday, October 12, 2012


I am most amazed by the changes that come when fall hits the area. The trees begin their journey to colors that express all the heat of summer; lots of reds, oranges, yellows - as if the sun itself lived in each leaf. We have come upon fall here in Port Townsend in a big way now. Temperatures have dropped, moisture hangs in the air, wind has begun to blow and the sun is missing in the sky. Just before falling into autumn. on what turned out to be maybe the last sunny day for a while, I took these pictures of trees in my neighborhood. My favorite tree has only just been kissed at the very topmost leaves with a hint of color. Pictures will have to come later of that spectacularly beautiful tree.

Friday, October 5, 2012

When I come across someone's needlework project all finished or nearly finished in a thrift shop or junk store; I am a little bit heartbroken at seeing it there all alone, love poured into it, hours of time, skill and contemplation gone into it's work and I am thinking I need to rescue this piece. Finish this woman's work, make it complete and breathe into a life. Allowing the piece the appreciation that it so deserves giving it and the life lived that created it, completion.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

The bandages are off my finger and I have managed to not only work the bead show, but spend a bit of time in the studio ( mostly making lists of what I want to do ) and an evening or two in the shop merchandising, displaying and making more to do lists.

I was moving along at a great pace tonight in the shop setting things up for Girls Night Out tomorrow which actually occurs all day, go figure, when I moved a display cube and whacked my wounded finger. I mean I whacked it but good. The kind of whack where you see stars and head into blackness. All I could think to do after shouting out the initial cuss word was revert to my old lamaze breathing. Now, how long is that memory and technique going to hang around in my life? I mean to say that my youngest child is sixteen after all, and you would think that those childbirth " techniques " which I huffed and puffed my way through all those years ago would be gone, faded away but no, in times of bad pain, the breathing comes right back around. After I returned to this world and full conscience-ness,   I laughed at the memory, glad that those years of childbearing are thankfully a long way behind me!

The moon is 85% full tonight and so bright and glorious in our night sky as to steal one's breath away. Without all our rain and clouds, which I miss by the way, we can see the moon! The sky looks like a movie scene and the tree's silhouettes a character actor in a story. What beauty and mystery hangs so deeply in the sky.