I have been thinking alot this week about time and about the things - which are not really things at all - that are most important to me. And how it's probably wise for a person to review these points on a daily basis. And how it's probably wise for a person to weigh each one against the other, and adjust one's settings as needed. Because, as we know, it's all too easy to fall into the trap of living life on a default setting! And, perhaps because I have been thinking about these points, or perhaps through sheer coincidence, several poignant conversations with different people have occurred this week, which in some way, have helped bring me to a deeper understanding of...hmmm... the things which are most important to me. And so in the spirit of sharing, and also in an effort to make a note to self, in today's post, I'm just throwing some of that "out there". Although, admittedly, in a kind of rambling way :)
Yesterday, at work, I had a brief but, to me, profound conversation, with a special friend (who is also a fellow consultant on the project), about... hmmm... I suppose you could call it approaches to life. We were talking about some people we know, who manage their day according to a timed schedule, literally moving from one activity to the next. Let's say, 7 'till 9, yoga. 9 'till 10, breakfast. 10 'till 12 tennis. etc, etc. And we were discussing how that's how these people have "fun". And we were imagining how that kind of life style might be, and thinking that it didn't seem to allow for any time to reflect on the "fun" that might be being had. And we both realized that, as much as the activities we like to do ourselves, what makes them worth while as far as each of us is concerned, is the moment for reflection. And of course, not everyone's the same! But it got me thinking about how, those moments are really the most important thing to me. Fleeting as they may be. And a good example of what I mean being, this particular conversation that we were having... sitting on the grass, in the shade, by the edge of the lake, and really being in the moment. And really appreciating the value of that. And really feeling the layers of meaning attached. Then we got back to work. In the blazing sun, on an open grass plain, surrounded by a constant flow of heavy equipment, and the air (and our skin) covered by a blanket of dust rising up from the roads, as is so typical of this place at this time of year, in this season of unimaginable dryness. The whole conversation lasted maybe 5 minutes. But for me, the moment felt somehow life defining. In a some small yet powerful way. Weaving complexity, yes, but at the same time, perfect in it's simplicity. If you know what I mean ;) And it makes me think of something Jude said here.
I continue to be kept busy with work. Very long days. And very long evenings. So I haven't had a chance to focus on my current cloth. But in my head it is moving slowly forward. And on paper I've come up with this, which will be somehow incorporated with what already exists.
I don't know why, but I have always had a thing about wading birds. I would love to be able to hold a large white heron. Another dream of mine is to someday see a flamingo lake.
One of the great things about where I'm currently working is that there is a lake. We built it. And on that lake we have created bird habitat.
The images above are of large white herons. I don't have the guide to Costa Rican birds here, so I can't tell you what species these are right now.
Here's another of my favorites, the Rosate Spoonbill. Taken from a long way off, with a limited zoom lens.
I was also so excited the other day when I saw this on Grace's blog. It reminded me so much of papyrus paper. And that got me thinking about art of Ancient Egypt. Which I have also always had a thing about. Our youngest son - Nilo - is named for the River Nile. My eldest son - Eben Ptolemy - that name came from the Ptolemaic dynasty.
Several days ago, I was sat starring hard at this small pile of cloth...
And nothing came to mind. Although I made this sketch...
And since it didn't mean anything at the time, the whole lot got stuffed back into the "creative draught" bag (and thanks so much to sweet friends who left comments on my last post or who sent meaningful messages about that).
Last night, the power went out. My computer went off (the battery lasts just long enough to save anything that's open). I was sat at the kitchen table, with a candle. There was a block of newsprint and a green marker, and I found myself sketching bird motifs in the semi-darkness.
When you make a connection between incidence and incidence, do they then become co-incidence?...
While still playing with the experimental cloth that I started in the New Year, I had an interesting accident. I was stitching a diamond motif in black thread on a fairly heavily woven, hand dyed linen. But half way through, I decided that it wasn't working out the way I had envisaged. So in order to remove this section from the backing cloth, I took the scissors and cut through the topside of the stitches and accidentally cut a chunk in the cloth as well.
Hmmm... this small hole looked kind of interesting. What if I made the motif by cutting at intervals, instead of stitching?...
I made small folds in the cloth along the edge of the roughly sketched pattern and began snipping away (image courtesy of my 8 year old son, Nilo, as it was not possible to hold scissors, make fold and take photo at the same time). I like this idea, of creating pattern with what's not there.
And when you think about it, that's like lace.
And I suppose, more often, one would think about using this in ways which would emphasize the pattern. For example, using the way that the light passes through the spaces...
...or, using the way that the darkness does. But I wondered what would be the result if I ignored the pattern altogether, and so I set the cloth back on the backing cloth and just started stitching.
And although the outcome was nothing to sing and dance about in itself (should have thought to use a pale thread instead of black, didn't even finish what I'd started), I really like the way that an echo of the pattern remains, and the way in which it starts to become a textural pattern. Another idea to develop in the future!
The experimental cloth looked like this the last time it was seen. I just wasn't happy with it. So it went through several tearing up sessions, (maybe that's what I most needed to do at the time?) a funny little scrolling motif popped into my head...
And then it became this... for a brief time! Still not happy, this new cloth got torn into single sections. And that's where it stands. Four small cloths (aprox.18 x 23 cm). Each interesting in their way. But... honestly... what I am going to do with these?
The pale version of the "vine" applique got stitched and cut. I finished that part at least! I like this little cloth the most. But since I'm still asking myself "but what it is?", I feel disinclined to move forward with it in it's present incarnation. Maybe it belongs to some other cloth?... One that hasn't occurred to me yet. And, ultimately, maybe all of these will end up in pieces and as part of something else.
On a good day, that thought feels full of a sense of freedom, that one can just go on expanding on something, revising, changing, starting over. A Life cloth! But on a bad day, (and right now they seem to be the most dominant kind) that same idea has me throwing the cloth into a corner and asking "what's the bloody point!"
I know that all comes from being too mentally stressed, and too physically tired, (I came down with flu right before Christmas and it seems impossible to shrug off).
I know too that that's when I probably most need to make cloth (right?...) But pushing through that ridiculous barrier, of needing things to be simple and straight-forward and have a clearly defined purpose (a case of my professional work load colliding with my creative dreamtime) seems like the hardest thing to do right now.
I was excited when I last managed to get home to the farm (2 weeks ago) to discover in a corner of the garden behind a bunch of plants, 3 forgotten jars from last years solar dying experiments. It was hard to open them as the metal lids had oxidized, and when I finally managed to get them off, it was all pretty stinky. But after several washes and rinses, I ended up with some palely pleasing little cloths. One that had been wrapped around an avocado pit (top of image below). Ones that had been folded and placed in steaming water, with chile pepper and rosemary leaves,(pale and narrow panel left, and also pale cloth bottom) and some others, no longer possible to decipher what I had put in the jar originally.
Obviously, there are times when forgetting is the key!
I'm still strangely attached to circles (and still going 'round in them I feel). I want to make something of that.
"...that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space...."
An excerpt from Time XXI - Kahlil Gibran
It's exhilerating to be speeding along on the water - over darkness and through darkness - in a small boat at night.
A few hundred meters off shore on the Gulfo Dulce, bobbing and floating on the waves yesterday evening, we were treated to a firework show, the likes of which I have never seen in all my 40 years!
Apart from the excitement of being there, in the moment, I was shooting into darkness, and not knowing which split second of beauty would be captured on the camera's memory, but at the same time knowing it had to be inspirational...
Like stitches. Like seeds. Like circles.
Father and son.
A young boy whose dreams are still intact.
A special friend who made the whole experience possible.