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I have some work hanging in a show curated by Roger Hayes, the venue is the Cannon Beach Arts Association.
(here is a larger view.)
Roger is brilliant, and I was honored that I was invited to be a part of this show.
On my recent trip to Santa Barbara I unearthed this photo from my dad’s collection. My mother, with my childhood gypsy fortune teller, circa 1969-ish.
Given that I was in my childhood home and therefore imbued with a certain visceral sense of recollection, I was deeply moved by this. It embodies a bit of the atmosphere that I grew up in. So much magic, so much possibility!
I started mulling over what kind of alchemy do I want to do in my life; it used to seem clear, and yet these days, as my level of contentment grows, I don’t feel much need to manipulate the world to suit my ends. Hmmm. What came to mind, strangely enough perhaps, was the idea (not for the first time, but with a new urgency) of making striped sweaters, seamless, rugged, country, hippie even. Is this a manifestation of some “earth magic?” I think so.
So I started this:
But today, I am working on the endless sideways knitted border of the pi shawl.
reserved for fickle bloggers, I know.
I have been completely and totally away from the internet for months. It has been fine, but I am ready to be back.
I will take up where I left off:
Yesterday I went out to Mark’s, ie, the country house, and did some gardening. He has reworked the boundaries of the garden and I can’t tell you what a good thing that is. Sometimes it is difficult for me to delineate clear boundaries. I finally got the daylilies in the ground, planted to naturalize on the orchard hillside.
They are edible, you know! My goal is to plant edible beauties that will thrive without a lot of my attention. Come to think of it, that is my parenting goal as well. Minus the edibility part…
The girls, the girls. I came driving down the street last night, home from my day in the country, and I passed them sitting in a neighbor’s yard, getting ready to film a short movie. Alice payed the villain, Opal the victim. (Of course.) The villainy involved most of the contents of a bottle of organic ketchup, and they dragged in around 10, Opal soaked and smelly. It reminds me of when I was 9 and played the part of Astyanax (Hector’s son) in Sartre’s Trojan Women. The first night of performance it was decided that ketchup should equal blood, and when I got home my mother was royally pissed off at the mess. So I had to chuckle last night…. Of course I wasn’t mad at all, but it was hard to get Opal out of bed this morning.
Goal for today: update sidebars.