a hobbit's thought

"there is nothing like looking

if you want to find something."

-j.r.r. tolkien, the hobbit

sometimes i sit and wonder what to do. or not do. or do again. i can make myself crazy doing this doing-ness.  or doing-less, as the case may be. so in order to quell my brain and stop the world from upending itself and folding in, i pulled out my bowl of tiny squares and began stitching. again. tiny stitches. ticking the seconds away. i know one day these tiny squares will become some thing. a larger thing. a warmer thing. but right now they are simply tiny squares. stitched into a somewhat less tiny square. though still not large enough to warm anyone.

and then i noticed a new fray. a small rending at my ankle. a new opportunity to stitch. when i relinquish the tiny squares once again...

namaste'

a residue of time

"dark and silent

dreams settle

in the night like

a residue of time"

-d. joseph madl

while contemplating my collection  of burmese marionettes and indonesian wayan goleck (rod puppets), a thought intruded the quiet afternoon. unbidden. an unwelcome guest.  sitting in the corner. watching me squirm in discomfort. 

i have become complacent. 

lazy even.  

dust gathers on my workbench. a surface from whence once poured inspiration. like these puppets without a puppeteer,  i dangle uselessly in my studio. 

some thing 
must be done. 

a little more

"nothing can be done

except little by little"

-charles baudelaire

i'm slowly emerging, not unlike this year's spring. sometimes it seems like there is no time, though there is time enough for a little more. it's been a bit of a struggle...transitioning from a sedentary occupation to a physically demanding one. and at my age, no less!  couple the resulting sheer exhaustion with recurring depression and add into the mix the beginnings of arthritis and sometimes i just don't want to get off the davenport.

but the creative calling is strong. too strong to ignore for long, so this morning found me at the workbench adding cedar shake shingles to the first birdhouse. tiny little things, hand milled from scraps of cedar flooring from the cabin project.  the supply shelves out in the woodshed are filling up with all manner of marvelous bits from this adventure.  blue pine from the ceiling. red cedar from the floors. logs, branches and bits from the various pine trees and juniper bushes we've been harvesting for various projects around the house.  so many visions of new endeavors!  there's a lovely pine log that will become a fairy house...and some gorgeous longer bits of cedar that will make a marvelous box dulcimer with perhaps enough left over to become a scheitholt even!  they will make for pleasant little diversions from stitch and cloth now again.

my hope at this moment is that all of you in the crazy snow belt that has descended upon us are safe and warm and that those elsewhere are also safe and enjoying your days!

meanwhile, i was enchanted by what i found here.

namaste'

the birds and the bees

"my father told me 

all about the birds and the bees,

 the liar - i went steady

 with a woodpecker

 till I was twenty-one."

-bob hope

the urge for a change of scenery...for the hands as well as the eyes...found me puttering about in the wood shed these past couple evenings. reacquainting myself with the various array of power tools which reside there in.  exploring a back story for a character i've been contemplating. 

from scraps of discarded "waste" this bird house began to arise. it all began when a cast out board "marred" by a gaping knot hole whispered stories of shelter from the fire pile. shifted from there to my truck bed, and then along to my wood shed, it began to whisper in earnest.  buzz. buzz. bang. bang. the foundation of a home arose. blue pine, gifted with the happy happenstance of a large knot hole (the perfect door), needed little coaxing to take form. now to dig into the pile of scrapped cedar cut offs in search of shake shingles to roof this little house (ok...so it's not so little at 23 inches tall). and then....who knows what else will find its way home?

i shall have to begin work on its future inhabitant soon...

namasté

laying a foundation

it's strange, sometimes, where a tear will appear. center back of the neck. ripping stealthily. sneakily. but the opportunity to play with fragments of cloth and thread will not be missed!  first, a foundation to strengthen. next will be a layer or three of stitch and fragments. perhaps a skull? a crow? whatever, it will be a fun diversion. creating a quiet little secret hidden beneath the hood of my coat. except for when my ears get cold...

namaste'

"rabbit underground,

rabbit safe and sound"

-richard adams, watership down

there is a fat little bunny who lives just off the porch in this cozy little nest of dried grasses and snow caps. plump and round and as fluffy as a bunny can be.  he spends most of his days hopping about the yard, eating what grasses and leaves he can find (there is a veritable smorgasbord here). i spend much of my idle time watching him...eyeing me curiously as he munches away. it seems funny that he has the little green gate at his doorway. seemingly blocking any untoward visitors. apparently he does not consider me untoward as he seems genuinely unafraid of my comings and goings.  half-remembered images from some long ago watched monty python film linger in the dark recesses of my memory whenever i approach his doorway.  perhaps i shall simply heed the whispered cinematic advice and "run away"!

meanwhile, a growing of pile of cloth fragments and threads are calling...  i feel some needle chanting is forthcoming. a welcome and long awaited return to creativity.

namaste'

strange wisdom

"you have to

be blasé about

something, 

she said,

otherwise

you'd die of

over excitement. "

- brian andreas

there must be an overabundance of barely containable excitement bubbling just beneath the fuzzbutt's surface. he seems to have blasé down to a science. perhaps he is just being considerate and sleeping for the both of us... 

meanwhile, the tall skinny tree is up, ensconced in colored lights, and festooned with precious memories. oh, and littered with gifts! for the first year in too many, i am feeling festive as the holidays commence.

namasté

subversive sunrise

"the morning always has a way of creeping up on me and peeking in my bedroom windows. the sunrise is such a pervert."

-jarod  kintz 

stitching did not find my fingers this weekend,  though I did play with cloth fragments for a while. nothing worth photographing. however, this morning's sunrise was awe inspiring! perhaps there is a cloth in this one...

namaste'

stumbling through the dance

"the only way

to make sense

out of change

is to plunge into it,

move with it,

and join the dance."

-alan watts

this year has been an interesting journey down new and unfamiliar paths. changes in work. friendships. companionship.  sometimes i forget to stop trying to make sense of it all and simply allow it all to unfold. usually,  this finds me tipped head first into the quagmire of confusion.  but sooner or later i manage to pull my head out my nether orifice and I stumble forward again.

so i pick up a needle. stub some thread through its eye and begin again. these stars have been quietly whispering for snowflakes to join their gentle dance in the quiet sky above the man standing in the snow.  

here's to the warmth that blankets your spirit when you engage in doing something you love again after a long hiatus...

namaste'