SACRED SHARDS: Pottery Pilgrimage

I'm happy to report that I'm about to head out to the barn to work at my pottery wheel for the first time. I've had it for over a month, but things keep getting in the way.

Today, I've loaded all my pottery things into my garden cart and I'm about to make the pilgrimage out to the new work space. I'll spend the afternoon out there at the wheel and hand building with no interruptions.

Very exciting!

I'm slowly transforming the barn from a junky storage space full of dust and spiders to a functional Art Barn facing out onto the field and Gaia Luna.

The rustic wood and antique tools in the interior are an inspiration. Parts of it were built over 100 years ago. The family who originally owned the land lived in the central section of the barn, where my wheel is now, while they were building the house.

I spent all day Tuesday cleaning out one of the stalls to make room for ... whatever develops from this. Found 5 old horse shoes that had been sitting upside down in a corner, and gave them a place of honor, lucky side up on a wooden ledge inside the barn, arranged with a small heart shaped stone from Gaia Luna.

Quotes for today:

"There is no shame in happiness."
-- Albert Camas

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart."
-- Rilke

Peace,
Kay

Red-y to See

This past week I learned how to sew slip covers for furniture.

Nearly a century ago my great aunt taught my grandmother, who in turn taught my mother, who came to visit for the week and taught me.

My parents only bought one piece of living room furniture during their entire married lives. It was a sofa. Everything else was second hand, made to look new-ish through my mother's skill. Even that sofa has been recovered 6-7 times over the past 60 years.

It's a skill that fits with my values of reuse, recycle, renew. The whole Anti-Diva thing.

As my mom and I worked, I learned much more than just the practical skills she was teaching. I began to see her more clearly, and who I am in relation to this. Seeing her for the person she is brought both a feeling of closeness and distance. I don't think she sensed a difference, but I feel changed.

There is vividness and unfamiliarity to this, coupled with an acceptance of what is. Sort of like finding out the true identity of the Tooth Fairy for the first time when she forgot to take your tooth while you slept, then came flapping in the next morning with a quarter in her hand and a smile on her face.

The velvety slip cover is on the chair now. Mom has flown back home. I sat reading this evening after we got back from dropping her off at the airport. I fell asleep in the chair and woke suddenly, not knowing quite where I was, the room vivid and unfamiliar. I returned to my body with an awareness of smell of new fabric close to my face. The chair welcomed me with a hug like you'd want your mother to give you when you've been lost in a public place.

No one in my family is huggy. No one except for me. They'd rather do something for you, or teach you how to do something for yourself, than give you a hug. Doing is the language of love in this family. At least that's the habit we've fallen into over the years.

My mom spent this past week sewing on the chair.

At times it was a struggle. Things didn’t always fit together right, had to be redone, adjusted, just like the important relationships in our lives.

It's not perfect. But neither are we. It is good enough, more than good enough.

In some unspoken way, it’s just what I needed.

A Red Velvet Chair

I've officially arrived here at blogspot. First I'll unpack my small purple suitcase, then I'm off to work in Gaia Luna, cutting the last of the netting for the deer fence, turning the compost pile.

I'm not one who likes to move from house to house. I prefer to put down deep roots and stay in one place.

The house where I grew up was my home for the first 20 years of my life. I moved 8 times in the next 10 years. Until I found B. Our quiet little life together began 10 years ago this month.

Living in one house for a long time provides a deep feeling of connectedness with ordinary objects and the land. The stillness of staying brings inanimate objects to life. If I listen, I can begin to hear their voices.

This past Sunday, I bought several yards of fabric to slipcover my reading chair in the livingroom. I laid it out to look at in the changing light through out the day. The next evening, when I'd sat reading for a while, the chair gentle told me it really didn't want to wear what I'd bought for it. It didn't feel comfortable in such a bold design. The room agreed. It wanted something more peaceful. After a discussion that included the sofa and the loveseat, the reading chair decided it will be covered in rich cranberry red velvet.

I’ve decided it’s best not to question the wisdom of such a well read chair.

Soon it will be, well, red.

:-), Kay

COPYRIGHT 2006 - Effusive Muse Publishing

A New Home

I'm a blogging nomad who hopes she has found a more permanent home here. I moved after discovering that myspace.com deletes blog posts after 1 year. What kind of blog is that?!

If all goes well, I'm hoping to move that content to this new place. Will have to find out if I can back-date posts.