lifelong knitter

The Kids Are All Right

Yesterday was filled with Miracles of the Stubborn Mama variety. After several weeks of playing phone and computer tag, I finally got in touch with the director of a very special program which provides *invisible social support* to people just exactly like my Daughter. As a result, we are leaving today for a College Visit. A real four year University, with the degree program she is interested in, has invited HER to come and see if she likes it. Could I be any happier? I think NOT. This is the child, by the way, who was never going to be able to go to Regular School or ask a question or have an ordinary social interaction. Never Say NEVER. I have been determined to assist my children in reaching their fullest potentials as human beings, and NOW, 20 years later, I am finally seeing the fruits of the stubborn seeds I planted in Preschool. It has not been easy, and Lord knows, I've fallen flat on my face more than a couple of times...but yesterday I took stock. My son is working at a productive job he LOVES and living as independently as his medical needs allow. He's Happy, has Friends, and gathers around the dinner table with Guys Like Him in a house he has helped clean, and does the dishes after dinner before retiring to his room. My daughter graduated from a regular high school with honors, completed three semesters of a local community college, without any special ed support whatsoever, made the President's list every semester and accompanied me on a five week train trip across the country. She was the single most delightful travelling companion I have ever had the pleasure of being with. She wants to try and transfer to a four year college and someday get her Masters degree in Library Science. Today we begin that process. They have both worked really really hard to overcome insurmountable odds and LOTS of professional Naysayers.
Saturday we will be at MSWF. I'll be the Proud Mama, grinning from ear to ear. I can't wait to give each and every one of you a Huge HUG!
There Probably won't be any blog updates until Tuesday or so, as I am NOT lugging the laptop on this trip. If I get lucky and find a Public Library or an Internet cafe, I'll try to sneak in a quick post.
Blessings to You and Yours, this day as ALWAYS!

TWO BUCK(ET)

Here's the First of the Bottom Up Bucket Hats....ready for Blocking!
I used some Aunt Lydia's Crochet cotton in color ROSE (way less than the two full balls I started with...)
that I picked up for Two Bucks (Three if you count the pattern and all the cotton I had left over...) at the annual Hospice Flea Market. It's even sorta two buck chuck colored, hence the NOD.
I loved this pattern, but second the motion that SOFT yarn is not appropriate. This was a test run before I dove into the luscious cotton and tencel blend...I think I'll get more of THAT and make a Chicami...
Anybody else seen the new Interweave KNITS?
I adore the Tinker Toy Tote, but oh that lace tank...and guess what? Same designer as Salt Peanuts! Same reaction...swoon-a-roonie!
I get to spend the afternoon with the Boy Bird...YAY! Daughter has already asked me about a million times what TIME we are going to go to his house to pick him up....That phrase just chokes me up. His. House. wow!

Customer Service

The Mommymobile is spending the day at the SPA...getting the full beauty treatment. I love my Honda Service department. Even though they were "Totally Full Up" today, when I explained that daughter and I were going to Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival this weekend, they made room for my vehicle. (Cuz that's a LONG drive, Missy!) I always get prompt, courteous service, they LISTEN to me and do the little things I ask for and then the next day, someone from Customer Care always calls me to be sure I am Completely Satisfied with the Service.
The one and only time I ever had a Major Problem with one of my long line of Happy Hondas, it turned out to be an after market alarm issue. The electrical system just Shut Down. I pulled over to the side of the road (thank god I was not on the Interstate at the time) and called my trusty Honda Guys. They came and picked us up, took us home, brought me a brand new loaner vehicle and fixed the problem. Sure enough, the next day I got a call from the cheery customer care representative....
It's only been a half an hour, but I miss my cr-v already. Do you think the camp counselors will mind if I call to check on her at lunch time?
S'mores, anyone?

Monday musings

I spent most of yesterday (between loads of laundry) knitting and praying. One of the reasons I find knitting so calming and therapeutic, is the poetic physicality. I get into a groove, and my thoughts flow freely, much as they do with the Intentional Practice of a Walking meditation, or listening to Gregorian chants. A doorway opens, allowing my mind to walk an ancient labyrinth, seeking solace. When I walk a physical labyrinth, I hold a question as I enter. Meeting Myself in the Middle (the working title of the book, at present) I listen for, and receive an answer. Walking back out into the world to put that answer into physical practice is the second half of the patterned pathway.
I have such a clear picture of the people who came before me, walking and singing their prayers, while tending flocks of sheep....it seems like I'm genetically coded to DO this.
I'm certainly miserable if I DON'T.
Generally I keep a running Prayer List. People and concerns to think deeply about and how I might help them in their current situation. The garment I am knitting at the time often ends up gifted to that particular person, or the cause to which I am focusing my energies. Something to literally wrap them in, tenderly.
More often than not, I am stunned at the presence of this energy in the structure of the resulting knitted fabric. Last night, when I held up the piece I had been working on, it looked LIGHT filled. I love it when that happens, and I slept deeply for the first time in a long, long while.
If you are so inclined, I'd like to invite you to join me. Read Knitting Into the Mystery and start or participate in a group near and dear to your heart.
Most of my life this has been a solitary practice, but the March this weekend reminded me of the importance of Power in Numbers.
So May it Be.

The Day after....

When my Daddy was going through chemotherapy, we had sort of a standard way of joking. He was never a man to admit weakness or defeat, or even that he didn't feel very well. I'd ask him how he was feeling on a particular day and he'd say "I wish someone would get the license number of that truck that keeps running me over..." and we'd laugh.
I woke up this morning KNOWING what he meant.
I now have a completely new respect for Artists who work at Festivals and outdoor shows. O.M.G. My face hurts from smiling and saying "HELLO, my name is..." and "it is pronounced GEE-clay. It's French."
I'm so glad I did this Festival. I knew it wasn't perhaps the most appropriate venue for my work, but the goal was to meet the deadline, have the work ready, be IN the show, and survive the Public Exposure.
I met some wonderful artists, one of whom lives four miles down the road and keeps SHEEP and spins her own wool for weaving rugs! Why haven't I known about her? She looked at her feet and said quietly, I don't like to get out in the Real World much, I love the farm and my sheep and my spinning and my children...I gave her a big hug and felt like I had made a New Friend.
There was an overwhelmingly positive response to the Shrine. I was very nervous about displaying it in my very small Southern town which has thirteen churches, only one of which I would ever be welcome in.
People kept touching it, and sighing. Wanting it.
I felt so strongly that there was a Reason to have my work Out There in this particular show. In the afternoon, a man in a wheelchair came through the Art show, pausing to talk with some of the artists, clearly having some difficulty breathing. He spoke to the portrait artist sitting next to me, a wonderful woman from Poland who had TB in her bones as a child and has endured a lifetime of surgeries. She developed her drawing skills while flat on her back recovering and being fitted for innumerable full body metal braces. She's SUCH a shining Light, and I adore her. She was speaking tenderly to the man, nodding and turning the pages of her portfolio for him, to better enable him to see her amazing drawings.
He thanked her and wheeled over to my table. I smiled and greeted him and he ANNOUNCED, in a Very Loud Voice that he wanted THAT, pointing to the shrine. I apologized for the hundreth time that day, 'tis not for sale. He laughed and with some effort explained that he still wanted what it MEANT, and wheeled himself on to the woman who paints pet portraits...and has a PhD in Art History.
I haven't completely processed all of the stories from yesterday. The woman who burst into tears when she saw the small polaroid of my children next to my Knitting. The people who LOVED what the Labyrinth represents and asked when the Book would be coming out. The FRIENDS who drove long distances just to give me a HUG.
I think I was there to collect stories, if I'm honest about the experience. I came home and wrote pages and pages of notes about the characters I met, the snippets of dialogue I didn't want to forget...and YES, entered the Sales I Made into the ledger.
MIRACULOUS, on so many levels.
My deepest thanks for the prayers and Love and LIGHT....I was bathed in them all the day long.

Nervous

I'm very excited, and nervous about the Dogwood Festival today.
About My Art, not so much.
I spent a wonderful three hours last night packaging, lettering signs, gathering supplies...
Getting Ready.
I'm Proud of this Body of Work.
I am so incredibly Blessed to have this opportunity...
I intend to Make the Most of it.
Details, tomorrow!
In the meantime, think on this...
the Pastor of the local Baptist church
asked me to be part
of the local Healing Shawl KNITTING Ministry!
I love the book,
Knitting Into the Mystery
and had been *planning* to try to find
a way to implement it locally...
Fabulous, no?
OH, and for all of you MARCHING in DC today?
My HEART is right there with you.

Today's the Day

I'm going to pick up the Finished Artwork today. Daughter and I are off to the big city, with the promise of a Big Bookstore and lunch someplace special. In that order.
Y'all would have been so proud of me at the Accountant...I left the office feeling like I can very well be in charge of my own Artists Life, so THERE. My eleven year old self did a little tap dance in the parking lot and took a bow. No cartwheels in strappy sandals and a dress....
I guess I should give some background here for those of you (Most of you, I suspect) who have no idea what this whole dress up thing is all about.
I was not allowed to wear pants as a child. Except in Extenuating Circumstances (the Race Track, for instance, where Pants were worn for Safety) I was Dressed Up. White gloves, patent leather shoes, pink dresses with very scratchy petticoats, yes. Pants, no. You Dressed for dinner. Didn't speak until spoken to. Dessert was Earned. Points deducted for using the incorrect fork for salad.....sigh.
I took me a long time to convince my parents that all of the other girls were indeed wearing pants to School, where I desperately wanted to Fit In. (Wearing Country Club clothing and carrying those heavy Russian novels and Physics textbooks didn't help...) The response was "If all those other girls jumped off a bridge....."
I longed for a pair of jeans. Levi's 501 to be precise. I got the "not unless you are mucking out horse stalls" lecture. I actually worked in a barn for a summer to earn the Right to have a pair of denim jeans. I carefully wrapped them in paper and snuck them to school and hid them in my locker. Wore them for a pep rally (because ALL of the other girls had agreed to wear jeans....) and someone took a picture which ended up in the yearbook and I was busted.
For. Wearing. Jeans.
In High School, mind you. In California, in the 70's.
Any idea at ALL why I might be slightly rebellious when it comes to my clothing choices NOW?
I love to wear overalls and handknit socks and gardening clogs....When I see a middle aged person driving a new harley? Fist pump, baby, I KNOW the feeling.
Speaking of which, several weeks ago, I came downstairs to find a note on the kitchen counter. One of the daughter bird's signature pencil on canary yellow legal pad Notes about Something Important.
Here is the list:

MOM
Madonna
Joan Jett
Pat Benatar

Title of this List?

Middle Aged Women Who ROCK!

I LOVE this Child!

Okay, we're off to the Big City...wish us Love and Luck!

Hip to be Square

Here's the finished Critter Knitter blankie. Cat tested and approved. UNTIL I arrived with the digital camera, that is. sigh. I won't show you the shots of felines NEAR the blankie, defiantly turning their backs(ides). It's gonna be one of those days.
How do I know this? Well, I did my usual fall asleep at 1am, wake up at 3am, again at 5am and FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON, I crawled back under the covers at 7am and FINALLY fell into a deep sleep. Not a Good Thing. On so many levels. Next thing I know, Tasha has her nose under the blankets, MOM,MOM, GET UP the drywall guys are here. OH. (insert expletive, here.) I ran down the stairs, unlocked the door and tried to hide behind it. From the snickering, it is clear that everyone in town will find out at lunch today that I have maps of California printed on my jammies. To scale, of course. Look, there's OAKLAND...
Now I have the awakened in the middle of a sleep cycle beginnings of a migraine and I have to go have an Actual Appointment with a real live Accountant. I have changed out of my jammies into a Dress and am wearing strappy sandals. I am passed the point of mildly panicking. The only thing worse than an accountant is the Dentist. I would never attempt the dentist during a retrograde, and I'm not entirely sure about the Accountant....but I'm blogging about it to be sure I keep the appointment. I am going to do this Right for the first time in my life. Set up an Accountant approved System for the Art which deserves to be honored. Keep actual records of What I Spend. Read Cari's (dogs steal yarn) post yesterday. Right she is...oh god, if you think handspun cashmere is addictive, don't EVER start using handmade Real Italian Earth colors of Oil Paint. Yes, Cari, I DO know all about Williamsburg Paints. Oh, and claudia? You are correct (as always) that nobody ever died of a Yarn Overdose...but lead and cobalt and cadmium...whole other kettle of fish, entirely. YES, I have read the fine print. YES, I am careful to protect my health. YES. I will go the Accountant. I will. Unless I go back to bed.
Just kidding.
Say extra Prayers to the patron saint of your choosing. Goddess of the Last Minute might be appropriate, here!

Shrine

Here's a picture of the shrine...I took this without my glasses on (my eyes are miserable with the current levels of Pollen Nation) quickly, before I changed my mind.
I went to Bologna, Italy and had an amazing tour with a Professor who teaches Italian Literature at both UNC, Chapel Hill, and University of Bologna. His family owns a farm in the area, so as you can probably imagine, this was NOT the Tourist Tour. I was smitten with the architecture, amazed by the cemetaries, and truly AWED by the chapels and cathedrals. We went to a Hospital (to see some Artwork he thought I'd be interested in...) and the Idea for this shrine was germinated. The Hospital was originally a Convent, and during the war, as so many buildings were, it was taken over as a command post and hospital. The chapel and the Artwork were relegated to the basement and carefully concealed from looters and bombings.
When I walked into the golden chapel...I felt her presence. I came home and researched what little information I could find. Mostly in Italian, which I can read if I go really slowly and remember what it is supposed to SOUND like...I pieced together my patchwork quilt of Catherine. She is the central figure in the shrine. To the right is the Angel of Volumetric Representation, and to the left (how appropriate, no?) is the Angel of Color Theory.
Oil on Panel, the shrine is completely constructed of found Objects.
Thanks for asking to see it.
I wept when I read my email this morning.
Blessings.

I can't stand it

I just HAVE to POST again today.
After reading Em's comment I realized I have a lot to confess.
Perhaps you share some of these experiences, perhaps not.
Please bear with me. I'm knitting myself a whole new life and there
aren't any directions. I'm winging it here.
My whole life I've been told that the Things I LOVE to do, the Knitting, the drawing, the painting, the dancing, the Music, and most especially the THINKING about Things, is a Waste of TIME. I'm USELESS. When are you going to get a Real Job, dear? One we can brag to our friends at the Country Club about?
I've absorbed that message so totally and completely that I used it to describe myself while I was scared about being a Not Good Enough MOMMY, the most important job I've ever had.
Thanks Em, for being a Real Friend of the highest order and pointing that out to me.

I went to the Printer today and saw my sculpture (which is, by the way, a knitted self portrait, in WIRE...) on the Preview Screen. I burst into tears. He made it So Beautiful. The Absolutely Impossible Object To Photograph (and believe me, after five rolls of my own film and several rather excellent professional photographers...I had given up...)was THERE in Living Color. In Three Dimensions. O.M.G.
He went on for a few minutes about the complexity of the sculpture, how it had delighted him to photograph it. We both agreed that the Final Product was amazing. He's a genius. Truly.
I got over myself long enough to start breathing again, and then he showed me the Print proof of the Labyrinth Painting. This is to be the cover of the book I am writing about my journey with the Children who are Autistic.
THERE. I said it out loud. Lightning did not strike.
He marvelled at the subtlety of color and texture and I started to feel....well....a little better about actually showing these things in public.
Last, but certainly NOT least, was the Angel of Color Theory. She is the side wing of my Triptych (made completely from found objects) Shrine, dedicated to the patron Saint of WOmen Painters, St. Catherine of Bologna. The Angel herself is "about" the radical concept that Women are People. Regardless of their social status or sexual orientation. If you are here in this world, it is because a Woman gave birth to you. I don't understand why this is such a difficult concept to grasp.
I immediately started to list the flaws, things I would do differently the next time I painted an Angel for Public Consumption. He flipped on his screen, cranked up the resolution and put on a filter and began lecturing me on the AMAZING subtleties of this artist who had painted her so delicately, so carefully, with WHAT, one or two hairs of a teensy tiny brush on a little piece of found wood already attached to a shrine...and LOOK how beautiful this color is...right HERE..this Artist he said, must Really Know Something about ANGELS.
Yes.
As a matter of fact, I do.
A legion of them left me comments and emails over the last few months, when clearly I was blathering on about my Very Odd Life.
THANK YOU.
May the Blessings be returned to you a thousand fold.