she said "rusty" like it was a bad thing!

after having breakfast yesterday at a trucker dive just outside of town, a dear friend and i decided to poke around a nearby antique shop for battered, vintage cigar boxes and the like. joyously waltzing up to the register with an arm full of boxy treasures, we got to chatting with the 150+ (or so it seemed) year old british lady behind the counter and listening to her time-worn war stories back in jolly old england of yesteryear. it was a fascinating trip down her memory lane! somehow, the conversation about the bombing of england and hunkering down in the dark recesses of bomb shelters found its way around to an old bedspring sitting out along side the barn. i don't know how we got onto it, but i expressed interest in it and the clerk raised an eyebrow in surprise, and perhaps a little disdain, and wondered what on earth i would want an old rusty bedspring for? always having a bit of stitchery tucked away somewhere on my person, i pulled out a rusted sunburst cloth that i had been stitching on and told what wonderful patterns i thought i might be able to coax out of the bedsprings, what with the repeated circles and x's that i could immediately see across the top and so forth. with curiosity in her eyes, she informed me that she couldn't take less than $5 for it. she said it hesitantly, as if she thought i might abandon my cigar box treasures and flee the shop without a making any purchases at all! of course, i couldn't leave my new found treasures behind and was only to happy to cough up $5 for the bedsprings...my mind awhirl with ideas of visions of the cloth that i might be able to create!

the next few days are supposed to be quite warm, dotted with thunderstorms. wondrous weather for earth dyeing!  i can hardly wait to fling some vinegar drenched fabric across these springs, blanket the whole affair with plastic sheeting and see what emerges over the next few days!

namaste'

you can't pick up raindrops

"i always like

walking in the rain,

so no one can

see me crying."

-charlie chaplin

the weather here has been as changeable as my mood. perhaps one is responsible for the other? though i'm not certain at times which is which... each day this week has held beautiful sunshine, turned to looming, expressive storm clouds, turned to downpouring rains.

sometimes, looking up, i feel very small and just want to run and hide somewhere warm and dry!

but then the rain begins to fall, washing away the dust from the neighboring fields and taking the fears along with it.

the first carrots were offered up by the soil this morning, between the raindrops. these i can pick up. and eat.

i've been looking back through my many cloths and have decided to pick up mind flowers once again. it feels good to get in some thread chanting while the rains crash about outside and the fire crackles in the fireplace.

the latest cigar box guitar creation is complete! re-purposed from a vintage kildow's old stock cigar box, butternut neck with 100+ year old barnwood fret board, and three vintage flatware stems re-imagined into string holders strung up with the three lower strings from an old guitar set, this wondrous little gem has a great, booming sound that is perfect for throaty delta rhythms! the perfect counterpoint to the rolling thunder outside these walls...

time for some snuggling with the saint...she's looking somewhat lonely over on the davenport.

namaste'

thunderstorm in the night

a swarm of grape-dark clouds moved quickly to fill the big skies tonight, bringing with it a great broodimg storm of lightning lurking in its deep recesses. there is a power and majesty to be found in such storms once you relegate your fear to more sensibly feared events. i found myself out driving the old ford truck down lonely back roads, stopping from time to time simply to absorb the violent beauty of the lightning and to listen to the rollimg grumble of the thunder. hours passed in awe and wonder before i turned toward home and the soft, warm comfort of my bed and the loving snuggles of the saint and her drowsing cat.

there is a part of me that lives for these moments...

namaste'

some days...

some days need nothing more than to kick your boots out and crack open a corona to make it a worth while day...

namaste'

don't leave home without one

anymore it seems i never leave home without something with which to make music! this little catfish rambler by shane speal has been one of my new favorites to toss up into the gun rack whenever i go for a ride. it's smaller than the others, and a lot more "rough and ready", has a great low growl to its voice that's tons of fun since its strung up with the lower 3 strings from a normal guitar set. almost reminds me of the saint's cat purring contentedly in her paws as they nap on the davenport. between strings and threads, there's always something creative to contemplate...

now it's time to go do some more idea mongering and see what rises out of the chaos in this mind!

namaste'

it'll drive you crazy, if you let it

these past several weeks for me have been a bit of a blur. no amazing artistic breakthroughs. no mind-blowing sparks of realization. they've simply been markers of a string of ordinary events. drizzly rain on cloudy days. a bit of sun and mom and dad's. the long drive from here to boise and back again. more drizzly rain and cloudy days. and through it all a trail of half-formed ideas and addled musings that never quite seem to make it to the surface of the creative pool...

to pass the time and keep from going crazier than a one-eyed coon on a lopsided merry-go-round, i've been revisiting my musical instrument collection and sorting through my cloth stores. alternately, of course, since i seem to have the attention span of a retarded gnat lately so couldn't manage to focus on the two tasks at once.

this morning i was re-arranging my mountain dulcimer collection to make room for my cigar box guitars when a thought dashed through my foggy brain...  after a couple cups of coffee, i grabbed one of my favorite dulcimers (that'd be the one on the left...though i have so many favorites) and a couple of slides, then sat down to explore what it might sound like if i were to apply blues slide guitar techniques to the strings of a hillbilly instrument. a few hours...a several misguided turns, belly laughs, and a scared cat or two...later, here's what i came up with:

maybe there is a light glowing somewhere in the dark of this besotted tunnel?

namaste'