Weight settles on my shoulder. The slight bite of talons reaches through cloth to touch my skin. Later, I'll find thin scratches where they shifted. As wings settle against feathered body, I turn my cheek into the warmth. Delicate and soft as satin, with texture like brocade. The smell... Is warm milk, old straw, and the dusty scent of tree bark.
Seriously? Seriously. I feel bad for the kid and all, but I have a larger problem, here. This 'Watch List' is supposed to keep us "safe," whatever that means, but all it takes to bypass it is a misspelling? Seriously? What, exactly, is the point in keeping a list of names? And, if you were smart enough to hide a weapon, wouldn't you be smart enough to change your name?
I... I mean, I just... I'm speechless. Lets all change a few letters in our names and really fuck with "security," eh?
In the fall, I brought up to my husband the possibility of starting a garden in the front of our house. We don't use half of the lawn space, and the grass needs replanted anyway. I am not a fan of grass at it's best. Our lawn does not represent the best.
I had done some reading on kids and gardening. Keeping plants alive has never been something I'm good at. I would love to learn along with my son, and find something we can do together. I look at it as a teaching opportunity. And it's not just the physical sowing and weeding, it's about being outdoors. It's getting in touch with the earth, and away from all the technology that eats up our time and happiness. Together, perhaps we can learn something of patience, and the joy of simple and slow.
I've thought about it all winter. To avoid the hassle of digging, we'll put in a raised bed. Sometime early in February, we'll go to pick out seeds. I'm looking forward to this. It's one more step away from the frenzy, and into the steady world I aspire to. One more calm creation.
I wander through words about cloth and time, and I am inspired. Not because the objects are beautiful, though they are. And not because the writing is done well, though it is. There is a sense of peace in spirit that travels through everything these people send out to the world. There is a lack of self-importance. Simplicity.
Simple technique, executed with care as well as inspiration can create the world's coveted art. Simple ideas, passed freely with love, can heal the wounded soul.
I've spent a lot of time learning crafts. Hubby says everything I try, I succeed at. I think he might just adore me. Still, I've always spread myself thin and picked things up only to be distracted by some new idea before the last was finished. Everything was fast paced. If I can't finish it in a day or two, it goes in a drawer somewhere to be forgotten.
My resolution this year is to work slower. To create with purpose. To breathe life into everything I touch. I have resolved to lose the frenzy and challenge myself to stability.
Despite what I know of the crafts themselves, I have a lot to learn. My favorite craft blogs are dedicated to slow cloth and the process of creation, rather than churning out results. Their reflections have helped to form the basis of my own. I covet their creations. Rather than trying to create the particular style of these artists, I will attempt to follow the method. There is more satisfaction in that anyway.
Its tough for me to remember to enjoy the journey. So often I simply want the finished product. After following along with these ladies, and getting a sense of what they do, I want more. I want more than a worthless item to toss in a drawer when I'm bored. I want something that speaks to me. I want something that reflects my learning process and ideas. So, while I do not make a habit of New Year's Resolutions -- especially as they are commonly practiced -- I have decided to make one this year.
As a side note to that, I am dedicating one month of focus to each of the chakras. This month is the Root chakra. I've a mandala coloring book which has art for each chakra, and I am also stitching on a piece of tie-dyed cotton. I took a fabric dying class in high school, and have been carrying around the fabric ever since. It feels good to work on these things. I don't know how the final product will turn out, or what I'll do with it. For once... That isn't the point.