Thursday, December 8, 2016


yesterday i taught a group
of adult hospice workers
how to make star books and an origami book.
they were a lovely bunch.
i came home so happy to have been asked to help non-art folks
make something with their hands
that maybe they can pass along.
one tiny book,
that becomes an ornament.
nancy moraines taught me this structure a long time ago.
and claire van vliet taught me the origami book
that i passed on.
(no photos, 
somehow it seemed to be a photo-free day.)
it creates a book that has change integral to the structure.
someone i know called this kind of thing a trick with a hole in it.
transformation is a peculiar thing.
these flip flops
 have been on the roadside for months
i don't know the story
but the snow increases intrigue.
the barn continues its disappearing act

 exposing the spot where the kids played and played
 i loaded the mow with hundreds of bales of hay
that i hauled off the meadow after baling
years ago.
 what memories this building has
30 years of our memories, 
and many more before
because many of the framing timbers were recycled.
 it's locking into cold now.
ice forming its own contour map.
 such a huge crop 
of wild grapes here this year.
 and i've been gathering milkweed bast
 gin sent me some milkweed bast, too,
a bit different than mine
 and this was another batch, 
field retted until there is quite a bit of gray.
cooked and ready for beating.
 these days walking has been rather gloomy
 which is what happens.
a ring around the sun
 as it sets
very subtle
but there.
i saw it.
two days ago.
 the cows, as ever, watch
and eat,
their sweet muck scent startling,
rich in the coldness.
 they watch me 
 i speak to them
sometimes the calves are skittish.
sometimes there is little
interest in me.
our concerns are perhaps not so different
 food, shelter, joy, daylight.
 december moves into solstice.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016


one pair of pants
retired and worn out gramicci cotton twill climbing pants
all seams ripped opened,
"natural shibori" covering a small coptic bound book. 
(the waistband)
i just finished my first rag paper in years.
a post of paper, 
41 sheets, 11" x 17"
2 sheets of badger paper.
 restraint dried and lightly pressed
 41 sheets
a bit textured and irregular in formation
 the two wild badger sheets containing gramicci cotton rag
kozo &
 there are two half pockets left,
made from a lighter fabric, part synthetic.
also the nylon belt and mesh strap, elastic bits, thread.
i've used these belt pieces to hold stuff together,
even my old mailbox.
not bad.

Sunday, November 27, 2016


the thing i like about november is contrast.
it's a month of highs
and lows.
(this year's were some huge ones.)
riding out the changes
isn't easy.
it's worth it, though.
today i watched sky drama
 on my way to my house from home.
a murder of crows tilting through the sky
calling out teasing
and keeping their distance as a bald eagle flew through it all
and landed in a tree. 
there eagle stayed and waited them and eventually me out.
blue jays called, so did a pileated woodpecker,
but still eagle waited.
i drove on.
at home i noticed my barn had leaned a little bit more

 changing profile in the sky.
november's almost done.
i am turning a decade tomorrow, too.

Monday, November 21, 2016

friends holding each other together

i've had two wonderful friends visiting 
recovering from the sad election
making things with paper and thread.
making (and eating!) food.
recovering from sad hearts and head colds.
we had big hopes of making up a storm.
instead we supported each other
with words, pulp, love,
and chicken soup.
i cleared off my dining room work table
to the amazement of my family.
 outside the barn continues it's decline
swiftly going
two days ago it was over 70 degrees!
indian summer.
 i travelled through the country of the ladies
 and walked my high-up open road
 collected milkweed and remained tick-free!
 therese brought moon water
and the bottle on the far left was seen dancing.
caught on video, but i can't upload.
 therese prepping for kami-ito
 she has magic hands
 aimee's hands were in the hanji vat,
which she set up at SLU's ZONE 4 paper studio
 she made hanji and other papers, and so did we
 and there's a big snow
therese left in the window of good weather, aimee would have too
if her car wasn't in the shop!
 winter is here
back porch doings are temporarily on hold.

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