Knitting up a storm


I was a little tornado of energy, ideas, and daily living things for the past several months. There was no time for blogging though I wanted to capture and make lists of all of the things going on. I had a resurgence of creative energy which came from daily meditation (131 days worth) and conscious effort to reconnect with my inner artist. Then last week I got horribly sick and had at least 4 full days of downtime. So I started knitting. I recently taught myself two color brioche through trial and error and am now confident enough to be designing a cardigan with it…knitting from the bottom up. It combines Berroco Remix Light in Strawberry, held double and Hedgehog Fibres Singles in Truffle. I love the subtle striping from the stockinette part and the way it will be longer in the back.


I think Penelope immensely enjoyed that my sickness made it so I had ample time for cuddles between rows.

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reflections

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The reality is that when I got to this lake I was so sick and dizzy I could hardly stand up and I was incredibly angry at my partner because he’d given me some strong chocolate that made me sick, but when I look back at this photograph from three years ago all I see is elusive beauty…a time that I can’t recapture. Reminiscence smooths out the rough spots and creates a beautiful reflection.

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I deleted all of the photographs with his image long ago, and towards the end started only taking landscapes so there would be nothing to delete later. I’m choosing to hold on to the beauty of the places we visited and to let go of the disappointments and betrayals.

damaged rose

IMG_0290There is a wonderful rose garden near my office. I go there almost every day to see what has changed and to smell the flowers. My phone has many photos of roses which caught my eye on different days. This was yesterday’s rose. The beauty and the scent were unaffected, and perhaps even heightened because of how damaged it is. The gardeners tend lovingly to this area, but somehow this rose must have been particularly appealing to whatever is eating it alive. I think the holes are lovely though with their negative space framed by dark edges. I felt a kinship to this flower. Relationships and events in my life sometimes nibble little pieces of me away and though I am alive, I too am a damaged rose.

quilting demons

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This is the very beginning of a story quilt about one of my demons. I have been meditating for around 50 days, exploring different types and surrendering to those that speak to me. One of the most intense has been “Feeding your Demons”. Llama Tsultrim Allione has made a Tibetan practice of getting to know and interact with the things that haunt and block us and changing them to be our allies accessible to Westerners. I have had several demon feeding sessions and one brought me to the realization that my need for external validation has become a monster, yet when if I shift my focus to providing it for myself it nourishes me and creates an abundance of love I can share with the world.

Right now, the quilt is waiting for the right fabric to make my demon out of. It will be inky and squid-like. The background and curled up silhouette are made from fabrics that I dyed myself with a combination of rust, plants from my yard, and chemical dye. The slow process of hand piecing the quilt top allows time for reflection and growth. I hope that the finished quilt will tell a story of healing and that this demon will be externalized for good.

My Favorite Lookout

Downieville is a magical little town with some pretty dark history, nestled in the pines. I haven’t been there for 2 years, but lately it has been on my mind…20150711_145247

Above the town, up a winding and particularly bumpy dirt road, where you reach an impassible point and have to walk the last bit, sits my favorite lookout. The views are spectacular…so vast that you can hardly comprehend the scale of what you see below you. The day in the photographs was exceptionally beautiful because the billowy clouds were moving quickly and their shadows on the ground below moved parallel in a fascinating dance of earth and sky…dark and light.

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This place and the town below are calling to my soul and I must go.

Ocotillo + Potential

I received a beautiful package in the mail, from a dear friend who understands my imagination and love of potential. Inside the package was the book “Roxaboxen.” It was so good it gave me goosebumps. I purchased my own little place of rocks, boxes, and potential in May and have begun the long transformation which will be a beautiful home when I have worked enough to transform it.

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The following are not pictures of my Roxaboxen, but are of a trip I took to the Anza Borrego State Park during Spring Break to see a spectacular wildflower bloom. The ocotillo in the book reminded me of the real, very impressive, ocotillo I saw in March. I didn’t realize how much beauty there was in the desert until I had an adventure there.

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Now I am in love with the idea of seeing beauty and growth in places that at first appear harsh and barren.

The Stairs Are Closed

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We didn’t see the sign until we had ever so carefully climbed down the two flights, holding onto the rails and gingerly stepping on the rusty metal edges in case more of the wood gave way. Then at the bottom there it was, blown off to the side, saying: Danger! The stairs are closed…with little fluttering broken pieces of caution tape tied to the rails. Would it have made a difference if we had seen the sign beforehand? No, because we had hiked 2 miles of steep switch backs through loose gravel and granite and there was no way we would turn around without swimming in the glorious pool at the bottom.

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Our intent had been to make it all they way to Curtain Falls (which you can see back in the following image) but it was a bit more treacherous than we were prepared for. Next time, we will pack twice the water and a waterproof bag to swim and scramble over boulders all the way to the waterfall.

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The view of Bald Rock Dome, of the granite sides of the canyon, and the verdant forest are well worth the perilous hike and several days of ache that follow.