seeing red

It was hard to get started
 writing today.

First I had to
 pick raspberries
(because ripening fruit
waits for no blog...).

Then just as I began
it suddenly seemed essential
to re-arrange the books by my side--

-- a distracting and compelling activity,
especially once I started noticing
 the color red.

Then it seemed a good idea
to wind a warp,
though it wasn't until
I opened my palette box--

--and pulled out a handful
of madder-dyed yarn
(rather than the soft grey
​I thought I was after),

that I realized
​I was in search of a little courage.

Something about
about my ppps of last week
seems to have struck a chord
(at least to judge by
most of your marvelous
and much appreciated comments),
and this morning I found myself
wondering/worrying
if expressing my overwhelming
(and often inarticulate) fury,
at the endless and malicious incitement
to violence of a certain person in power
(however brief my actual words),
meant something new was afoot
with how I present 
myself and my work
here on the blog.

A little think
​was definitely in order.

So even as the red yarn
was as surprising as the worry,
I made a cup of tea,
and​ settled into familiar routines:
-wound balls,
- moved a clamp from one end of the work bench to the other,
 -calculated
(2 yards, 2 strands at a time,
13 crosses = 52 ends = 104 yards).
- then wound the warp.

And while I was winding,
(because, now and again,
everyone needs the advice
 of a magical helper),
I consulted the frog,
who was kindly on hand to help.

(Note: frog front feet are called hands
 by the humans who write the posts at the top of a google search;
 what the frogs call them, I do not know).

Anyway, the frog
(who has been observing me
for many many years),
said:
"Sarah - as far as I,
a two-halved cast iron frog
who stores toothpicks in her belly
can tell,
you have devoted your life
to environmental and social justice
(even if you haven't known to call it that),
and I would bet that your readers
have probably noticed by now
how you feel,
and what you are trying to do,
which means regular overt reminders,
are probably neither useful nor effective--
nor even very interesting
as such discourse is not, actually,
a thing at which you excel--
except, of course,
when they simply burst out,
because, after all, mostly,
​you cannot help being you."

What the frog means by that last statement,
I think, is that sometimes
I am a bit too much
​ of a muchness,
even for myself
(if that makes sense)--

-- subject to
(and often hugely motivated by)
wild idea storms,
and a ferocious desire
to do no more harm than necessary--
and maybe sometimes some good,
to the small part of the world
within walking distance of my home
(and connecting distance of this blog)--
if only one strand ​of yarn,
and one marvelous new friend
​ at a time--
and that though most of this energy
is happily channeled into my work,
sometimes it cannot be contained,
and my decades old mule packer self --
or maybe the furious feminist teenager--
​bursts  fiercely or exuberantly to the fore. 

Happily for me,
most of this exuberance
gets absorbed into and by
the results of said idea storms,
increasingly caught into the marvelous
and unexpected materials I continue to find,
 that are endlessly pleasurable
to work with and gaze upon.

And that
is the part
​ I like most
​to share here. 

So my task going forward, then
is to keep practicing
letting my eyes unfocus
from the things
they have been trained to see
by the generations of  white colonizers
from whom I am descended
("this is not a plant, this is a weed--
the man who said so went to Harvard,
or maybe his father did,
or was it Princeton--
and though I can't remember what
 he actually is known for
I'm sure it was terribly important
and anyway you're related to him
so it would behoove you to listen"),
other humans and beings
who have been here all along
and whose true names 
I will probably never know
(what they call themselves, I mean)
sometimes allow me to catch a glimpse.

And the prickly things
I was told I needed to get rid of
and replace with something "attractive"
turn out to be useful and powerful
in ways I am only beginning to learn--
even as they have been fiercely themselves all along
with no need for, or interest in, my approval. 

So thank you frog.
And you, dear reader --
for supporting this work
however it manifests itself.
And for coming along --
--nay, for participating--
in this time we have together
to learn about and make things 
with all that is provided by
​this glorious and abundant
(if we are care-full and kind
and occasionally ferocious in its defense,
and remember to ask permission
before attempting to transform
anything or anyone
because we think we can 'improve' kin),
earth.

And now that I've spilled my guts
all over these pages,

I think I'll return to threading
and reclaimed the color red
​in all its lefty glory,
 as I can.​