(because ripening fruit
waits for no blog...).
it suddenly seemed essential
to re-arrange the books by my side--
especially once I started noticing
the color red.
to wind a warp,
though it wasn't until
I opened my palette box--
of madder-dyed yarn
(rather than the soft grey
I thought I was after),
I was in search of a little courage.
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
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.
was as surprising as the worry,
I made a cup of tea,
and settled into familiar routines:
- moved a clamp from one end of the work bench to the other,
(2 yards, 2 strands at a time,
13 crosses = 52 ends = 104 yards).
- then wound the warp.
(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).
(who has been observing me
for many many years),
"Sarah - as far as I,
a two-halved cast iron frog
who stores toothpicks in her belly
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."
I think, is that sometimes
I am a bit too much
of a muchness,
even for myself
(if that makes sense)--
(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.
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.
is the part
I like most
to share here.
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.
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.
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),
all over these pages,
I think I'll return to threading
and reclaimed the color red
in all its lefty glory,
as I can.