First of all…and maybe the most important… we have a moonscape here. A view of it…rising. Rising. This moon has been huge and it looks full now. And it was clearly rising in the east. And I wondered…I guess for the first time…”Does the moon always rise in the east?”
Often, in mountains especially, I have no idea which way I’m pointed. I know things like “up or down the road.” That’s what’s important. “Towards town or away from town.” That’s how I explain locations. But here, on this spot of earth, a bit elevated, I know exactly where the compass points are. So I knew I was looking due east. And for some reason that seems important. To know…to know where to look.
So I googled “moon rise” and learned that the moon pretty much always rises from an easterly point. I’m wondering now why I never asked that before. Maybe it doesn’t matter but it seems important now. Because it speaks of some kind of orientation that I can really feel. The spin and movement of the universe. The sense of standing on the back of this planet as it spins its way through the universe. And knowing where to look for the moon.
We are in the basement of the house where we will be living. The upstairs living space is uninhabitable at the moment. A construction zone.
It’s been like this for a while now. No progress. But lots of excuses. And so yesterday we–my sister and I–we fired our contractor. It was amazingly liberating. To take the process into our own hands. To step up and know that we can arrange for plumbing, tile, electrical and carpentry just as well–and perhaps better than–a busy contractor who really showed our home little respect. Wood floors have been ruined. They were oiled floors. Recycled oak from an old barn. Planed, cut, installed and then simply oiled. And though we stressed many multiple times that the floors had to be covered, they were not. And now sheetrock dust is captured in the grain and the oil, and although I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed, it does not come out. So…Sanding will have to happen. Sanding and sealing and days more added to our basement sojourn…which looks like this…
and yesterday, straight from the Land of Enchantment…a copper pot for dyeing
and a cloth…really my favorite of all favorite colors…
In probably a month or so we will be upstairs. And right now, that is just fine. Dogs are becoming acclimated to space and to each other. And we are all learning what it means to live in community again. But I found myself yesterday wondering when I would feel the movement of needing to speak with cloth. I don’t have a work spot yet that feels conducive. I don’t have the window to sit in front of that provides the old inspiration. I haven’t found my spot just yet. The knowing-where-to-look spot. So I’m biding my time. Watching this.