No kings

 

I don't know about anyone else, but I got a good night's sleep for the first time in ages last night. To know that there are so very many people who feel like I do. I also thought about those who wanted to come out but couldn't for many reasons.  There is still much to do. 

The weather goddess worked in our favor here in Georgia. There was thunder in the air. Thunder in my heart. It wasn't until after I got to the park that I realized that I did NOT have a current copy of registration or insurance. Sure, e-versions are legit, but I had no idea if local LEOs were on their last nerves. I actually pulled up behind a unit parked in front of St. Margaret's to ask if my banner was illegal, plate being obscured and all. 

I put on my flashers, got out, and went around to the back of my car to get a look. Opened the trunk, adjusted the banner, and closed it before approaching the police car. Then I realized that my actions in that moment would have been highly suspicious, possibly terrifying to an officer who was pulled over doing paperwork.

 I walked off to the side with my hands empty and visible, only to find that no one was in the patrol car. I got back in my car and headed out. My crumbling vertebrae might keep me from walking or running, but nothing could keep me from driving. The local park was not a rallying place, but it was busy enough to gather some supportive honks and waves. The few miles to home were uneventful. As I pulled into the driveway, the skies opened for real. 

News of Brian Wilson's passing rippled through my dreams. My friend's mother engineered a surprise sixteenth birthday party for her daughter. I only had to walk two houses up the street in my finery. The boys even wore jackets. 

I was very intent on making an impression on a certain young buck. Then someone flipped Pet Sounds over to side two, and I remember being completely spellbound by my first time hearing "God Only Knows". This may have been the moment. 

After all the teenage foolery of the Beach Boys' music, where had this miracle come from? I'm pretty sure I went home soon after. Alone and fine with it. Thank you, Brian, for opening that door.

Caught a few

 

Back to back storms washed through .  There was very little dye wandering loose in the final washout. 

When I get back next week, there'll be another dyefest. A run at some hot colors.  Cherry kisses, red plums, mulberry gold, and tangerine. 

Some of these will get tendered with some heat. 

Chasing blue

The new table is such a good fit. Longer and narrower than the wooden one.  The table Jim built in 1997 needs a little work (Jim tended to overbuild, something  I always appreciated), but we've brought it down to the pool deck to serve as a cook's table and shade nook for cats. They like to watch when I'm in the water. Any day now.

The memory of the color, Bonnie Blue, is drifting. The color was retired by either ProChem or Dharma when I got the container of dye powder. It was old when I first used it.

For years, I hoarded bits of cloth with that color. Always aware of what it was when I used it. I'm sure there are a few bits of it in The Blue Wave.

Twice this morning, when I was mixing colors, samples on wet paper towels made me go "Yesssss. Bonnie Blue". I think I found it, but I won't know for sure until tomorrow. 

It was 85 degrees in the full sun today, and I declined the tent and forgot my hat. The threads will be cooked. 

If I was hot, I didn't notice. There was great music.

 

I live close to the edge to be near.

They're here,

They're near.

Restless love, feral souls.

And they know when I need them

coming through sweet and clear.

I open my heart with blue,

and they all rush in.

music filling the spaces between memories. They know what I needed to hear.

The algorithm was a visitation today. One of Jim's favorite pastimes was playing DJ. 

 I'd be futzing around in the kitchen or tucked up in a chair, stitching, and he would dig through our record collection, cueing up the most intriguing segues. Many times made me make that "Oooo" face and give him a high five. 

He had a voice for radio but never cared to fake the patter. He let the music speak, and he was eloquent. 

Today, I discovered how to see the history of what my music app played. 

For me, this was a keeper.

June Blues

              It rained! FREE RINSING!

That's a twin-sized, fitted linen sheet under everything, soaking up the goodness.

 

No Kings Day

 

I never made an effort to learn the geography of California. Bigger, better, and badder than all the rest is how I think of it. Way out of my league, personally. Grace helped me do a little better. Northern California seems like Paradise.

This map, taken from a trusted source, shows the six-block area where the protests are taking place. The rest of LA is going about its business. This is not making light. This is the perspective from someone who lives there. The shitweasel would like it better if everyone thought the whole city was in flames. 

Like many, the disturbance in the Force emanating from Los Angeles had me on edge all day yesterday. It was pouring on and off all day with blazing sun between storms. I hid out in the studio and hastily added NO KINGS to the back of my IMPEACH 8647 banner. 

I had to do something. Anything. Phone calls to the representative's voicemail seemed weak and impotent. 

I won't be marching anywhere on Saturday, but the plan is to park my car in a public place and drape the banner on it with a couple of large magnets. I will be sitting in it or close by, depending on the weather. 

Forecasts say it's going to rain on his parade in DC.  I wonder who he'll try to blame that on?

Late in the day, I took the banner to the local park to get some pictures. It would have been good to throw something down for scale, but the second I got out of the car and took a few shots, the thunder gods spoke. Loudly.  

I got it scooped up and back in the car as the skies opened. LOL..a weatherproof sign.      67" x  51" - a two-person, two-sided banner

NO KINGS is only hastily basted here. A couple hundred more stitches will finish it as the days tick down.

I could have nailed the lettering in place with machine stitching, but my thinking is that the gorgeous piece of linen underneath will become a Victory banner when the Shitweasel and his ilk are plowed under the dirt. 

stumble and keep going

 Sized and sleeved, but I keep wishing for a way to do something to bump up the contrast.

I do it often enough to make me wonder.  Focus on shapes, line, and movement, but lose sight (or is it a sacrifice?) of color and contrast. 

I'll be home for a bit. Charlie is going to Day Camp.  What memories! I loved day camp, but I can't recall if I sent my kids anywhere. (I did, Jake just reminded me of the summer camp at the weedy little pond at Putnam Park in Carmel).

I remember that the modeling clay was cold and smelled like cola. I remember getting dozens of tiny cuts on my fingers from making tile mosaics on tin cans. Nothing much was asked of you if you had a preference, so I mostly spent the days in the basement art department. Nine ways to make brown! Early influencers - chalk, clay, and poster paint.

He told me he was excited about going to a Stripers game. That's the Atlanta Braves farm team. Cool Ray stadium was so close to the apartment where they lived, we could watch the Friday night fireworks. I'm not sure if he remembers. 

So I gave him my hat, which I'd been dragging around, mostly unworn, for over a year. I adjusted the fit and watched him see himself in a different light. 

We were both surprised in different ways. 

Come color

 

Not quite yet, but soon. A fountain pen turned on me. Ice Rink blue was everywhere.  

A lightweight folding workable is coming. I ran all the dye shakers through the dishwasher before I went away.

In good time...a good time. Like these from Summers gone by.

The play

 

the work

There's much to do. . starting with re establishing lines of communication.

Coming out of shutdown is uncharted territory. 

Yesterday there was a big step. 

 

A week away

 

A week inside with rain every day has been a test. There are math practices and the latest CD of the Harry Potter saga. I've also introduced him to the Star Trek movie series. The first two were slow as dirt and haven't held up. We learned the expression "curtain chewing" as it applies to the art of acting.

Ms. Nibbler has recovered nicely from her spaying, and events at my house have confirmed that she will always be an indoors cat. Plans for a cat gym and some window ledges are on Charlie's drawing board.

He will be a middle schooler next year. We are both working on making math as fluid and painless as the other subjects he excels at. 

I'm heartbroken to report that there has been no news of Camilla.

I fear the worst and pray that nature was swift and merciful, releasing her gentle soul back into the sea of consciousness.

Thank you all for the love.

Mourning

 They mourn. Especially Bailey.  I'm glad and sad to be away for a while.