Growing Younger


We went to Hannah’s for dinner last night.  Before we sat down and feasted like a king and queen with all the other kings and queens who were in attendance, we went ambling in the gardens where the world was so brightly leaping and green.  I picked ripe cherries.  RW ate the fruit directly off the branches of the trees.  I was shot in the face by the sprinkler.  RW gave me a piggy back ride through some prickly grass because it’s summer and I didn’t wear any shoes to Hannah’s house.  Summertime, in years past, has been such a solo event for me, hanging together like a frayed piece of sun-bleached fabric.  Just holding on.  Now I feel like my arms are open wide and I’m gathering everything into my generous embrace because there’s space here for collecting hearts and gifts and for seeing with clear, open eyes and following curious little trails into the great big yonder.  I’m in some kind of paradise right now.  Not everything is perfect, but my cup runneth over.

Summer is for growing.  Summer is for growing younger.  I hope you’re growing younger too.

Tinctoria And Other Things

Oh blue.  You are so dearly diverting.

I had the great pleasure of taking an indigo and shibori class over the weekend with local Methow artist, Sarah Ashton, right here in the valley.  It was wonderful.  Sarah is a generous, secure, wildly free and fearless teacher.  She is a joy to learn from and work beside.  The options for natural dyeing are so endless.  Everything begins with collecting bits and pieces of nature, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg!  The real creative work rests in how you mold, stitch, compress, clamp, twist, scrunch and fold the fabric you are dying.  I like the rich possibilities of natural dyeing because I am drawn to color and texture, no matter the medium I am working in.  Dyed fabrics seems like the same language as metal and enamel, just softer and more flowing.  I’m already daydreaming about how to incorporate naturally dyed silks and linens with leather and metal.  There are so many things to do and so little time to do them in!

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In other news here, I just said farewell to my sister and niece a couple of hours ago when they departed the Methow Valley and headed for home.  My visit with them was so lovely.  Julia is eight years old and I love seeing what she is capable of and challenging her with various adventures.  She has reached such an engaging and enchanting age.  We had a delightful time exploring nature together.  The house already seems too quiet without her vivaciously bold presence.  Carrie, our sister, is so steadily calm, gracious and kind in all she says and does.  It was good to have her around, hear her laugh and watch her unwind in the country for a while.  Robert deployed to Alaska over the weekend so the dogs and I are holding the fort here as the rain falls and the clouds come and go.  I fear my tomatoes aren’t ever going to do much of anything out in the garden.  But the spinach is nearly ready for it’s first picking and my oh my, will that wee salad delight the taste buds and soul!

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Life can spin so fast sometimes…but it always seems to spin faster and more out of control once RW heads out on various fire details in the summer time!  I’m not afraid to be alone.  I never am.  My friends keep me from being lonely.  But I do feel a need to go slow.

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On the mule deer trail I run quiet frequently, there is a stand of ponderosa pine and in this stand of pine is a handful of red tail hawks.  I hear them cry out to me when I pass through the forest.  I always take the time to walk beneath the trees, smell the warmth of the forest floor rising up, and search for their beautiful barred feathers to add to my feather collection while I slap away mosquitoes.  I collect the robin eggshells off the ground as I run down the trail an hold them in a loose and gentle hand as I move up and over the hills. There is a pile of deer bones I keep returning to, waiting for all the flesh to be eaten away by bugs and the sun to bleach and bake the last shreds of sinew before I take one or two home with me.  I go deeper and deeper into the forests here and feel more and more rested as each day passes.

I’m so thankful it’s summer.  I’m so grateful that RW is working again.  What are you thankful for right now?  I can’t help but wonder.  It’s always a heart opening experience to stop and recite a list of gratitude for the current state of our lives.  It keeps us present, all the good things accounted for and gives perspective to the sour moments of life that weigh us down.

Be well today, good friends. I hope to be back later this week with fresh work and ponderings!

xx

My Baby Can Fly

This morning I was able to watch the North Cascades boys do a couple of practice jumps and I was glad to photograph RW from the moment he left the plane to the moment he hit the ground.  I love watching him fly.  I love, even more, seeing him — seeing all of them — safe and sound back on earth again.  I know all the girls out there who love a smokejumper will say amen to that!

We have one of our sisters and our very most favorite niece (and only niece, which makes her even more the favoritest) visiting us at our Methow homestead.  Tomorrow, Julia and I are going to spend some time making jewelry together out in Miss Maple.  I can’t wait.  She’s a real corker.

Hope you’re all well!

Inside Miss Maple

I am almost fully functioning in the studio space.
Feels good….kind of like cashing out at the Colorado River Indian Tribe casino after playing the penny slots all night with M.
A little silly.  A little tired.  A little blooming pink in the late night.  Laughter, too.
I love the penny slots.  I love M, too.  But I love M more than the penny slots.  A lot more.
RW strolls past the Airstream and knocks on the windows whenever he gets home from the base at the end of the day.  He says it’s pretty nice to see me working in Miss Maple — it’s a return he’s finally seeing after all his (our) manual labor this winter past.  I love the space.  It glows.  I can’t explain it fully, but the light is serene and divine, no matter the time of day, and it feels really good.  It sounds vague, as I read those words aloud to myself, but I continue to fail to find the perfect description for the space.  After all our moving upheaval and limbo, I feel like we’re settling beautifully and while the dust is falling all around, the mountains are shining white and the rivers are washing everything away.
Gosh…say it with me now:
Life is good.