Tag Archives: garden

Point-of-View and Acceptance

14 Jul

Thought threads. Lots of pieces. Fragments. But there is one thing arising that started a few days ago.

I’m taking a workshop with Jude Hill. “Considering Weave” is the focus this go-round. It has me outside my comfort zone. I like that. And part of the intention is to explore weave structures as weave strengthens cloth or embellishes existing cloth– providing a matrix for exploration as only Jude can do.

I missed the first week of the workshop and have been playing “catch up.” Looking at other student’s work. Not really “listening” so much as looking. And so I had an idea–based on a window screen I made in 1969. Then I had taken a piece of burlap–a big piece–dyed it purple, machine stitched various enclosed shapes and then pulled out the weft threads inside the shapes. I loved it. It created visually interesting open patterns popping out of the field of purple. So I was thinking about that purple piece when I took a piece of red linen and started cutting shapes. Shapes that would hold some amount of woven interest.

This is what it looked like in the beginning–hanging in the window–and what I liked about it was that depending on where I stood, the view from each portal was different. lr reinforcing an idea I just read– Thich Nhat Hanh –“Perception is deception.”

I had been thinking about perception/deception and point-of-view when I started hacking up the red linen. And I wanted to express for self the relevance/irrelevance of being attached to a point of view. That’s what I wanted. But it’s not what the linen wanted. unnamed (3) And even though I really loved how it looked, I had chosen the wrong fabric for this project. The linen lost its integrity. It began collapsing in on itself. Folding and draping. Melting almost.

This morning, in an effort to return “spine” to the cloth, I re-wove binding strength into the holes I had excavated. They are just okay. So so. The cloth maybe isn’t quite as strong as it was…it’s changed…but it weathered the storm. DSC01386




So. Respecting. Respecting the nature of . . . . Things. People. Self. Not pushing against. Not wanting to change something against its will. Against its nature. Ah. And that leads me back to–acceptance. Again, the lessons of cloth.

Garden. Producing like crazy. Little rain really, but the ground is so heavily mulched that watering hasn’t really been necessary. DSC01352


The pole bean trellis is straight out of Jack and the Beanstalk. Ladder needed for picking and yesterday one of the bamboo supports gave way while I was about six feet in the air. I had already scoped out my landing pad when it broke.


Groundhogs are wreaking havoc in the squash patch. The fencing on this part of the garden is plastic. The gate was one I made, weaving bamboo together. Clearly an optimistic gesture. Because it deters NOTHING. And to date I’ve hauled off 4 groundhogs to various locales and now I’m thinking they’re hip to the havaheart trap. It’s baited with honeydew but being ignored, and honestly, I’m always relieved when I look out the window and its empty. Squash will probably recover.
groundhog damage

And finally, a reward for reading this far–
back in asheville

Sculpture in a downtown storefront. Asheville, NC. Sorry I don’t know the artist.

Sensing Spring

20 Apr

Last week, another three nights below freezing and lots of scrambling to keep plants alive. Straw. No longer available. Anywhere, in this town. Something about last years weather. But maybe–they say–maybe in a month–maybe there will be a first cutting from some place. Maybe we can get more. Right now it’s as precious as water.

It’s been very cool and rainy and I just finished slug patrol–they–the slugs–are doing just fine. Fat and plump and merrily grazing.

There have been teaser days–days when spring seemed settled in. Days when boy and dog–park bound, paused just long enough for this–logan and macy Days when finding tossing sticks revealed the sublime beauty of maybe my favorite flowers: violets
and then, because Asheville has a leash law, we, my friend and I, settled for watching from a distance. macy She could not be distracted. Was vigilant. Without motion. Would hardly blink. Much later when she caught sight of her person returning, she looked at me and smiled. Yep. She smiled. Heading for the front door of the house she shares with her people.

And I need to record for myself the progress that Juno is making. Because it would be easy to become discouraged. I need the pictures to show me how she looked before. When she was really tense. When resting was not something she could do. When adrenaline fueled her every movement. Here, downward dogging at home, with other people and other dogs wandering about:down dog
and she came to the chair where I sat, touched base in a way, then scurried off. juno up close
Hope is a wonderful help mate. Hope is full of confidence…and I’m so hoping she’ll help Juno find her own strength.
Because still Juno does not want to be handled Will not voluntarily come for touch. I read up on the breed. She’s a Tibetan Spaniel. Bred 2,500 years ago to be companions for the monks and lamas in the Himalayas. Slept with their person to help keep them warm. Were trained to spin prayer wheels. What I read stressed the importance of early bonding with people. The importance of socialization right out of the gate. Juno did not receive that–and how that could be, I cannot imagine.

So…there have been a few stitched added to “The Last Moon of Winter.” And slowly she’s coming into herself.last moon of winter

And some cloth–a nubby silk from Dharma–wrapped with rebar wire and soaked in onion skins. rebar cloth

…and these three squares thrill me. Echo some deep rhythm from beyond now…DSC01004

%d bloggers like this: