Quick changes

 

For the second weekend in a row, we are getting a little taste of winter. I wasn't planning on going to Jake's this weekend but somebody woke up with a fever on Friday morning. He only had one day of in person school this week and he picks up cooties.

And depending on how much snow comes down, school could likely be closed again Monday and Tuesday. This part of the country many of the roads are narrow, barely blacktopped and shaded by old growth. If the temps stay near freezing nothing melts and they are treacherous, especially for school buses.

In my haste to pack, I forgot the book I was reading and the stitching bag. But the notebooks are with me so...no excuses for a couple of days. 

Catch the scribbled thoughts and make some order.

Whatever germ was bothering him succumbed to the Cannoli cure by lunchtime.

We Have Eyes

We had a little time together just before the storm. I kept my sore heart under wraps.  Some games, some gossip,  a family movie night, the Michael Keaton/Jack Nicholson "Batman"

almost held up. Almost.

I made it home before the storm. Charlie got to have a little snow and ice fun as school was closed Monday and today they are having remote learning. Jake gets to proctor.

 

Reading HCR's nightly letter got me the first good night's sleep in ages.  Will the tide turn faster than the Titanic of American Democracy? I think, yes.

I'm grateful for the least little bit of silliness to keep me from

swinging from tears to rage. Harry's costume reminded me how much I enjoyed my B&W series. The new music, not so much.

Watermelon Sugar and Boyfriends will be tough to top.

The quilts (and others)  are all rolled up in the closet, begging me to find a venue.

Someone (many of them) are using AI to riff on the Resistance logo from Star Wars. Each state bird fitting into the design. This is the Georgia Brown Thrasher. Pretty impressive birds IRL. When they land on the lawn looking for food, all the other birds head for the trees. Songbirds with a strong hint of raptor to them.

I tuned in but was a little disappointed when I realized that the pukes were just taking the opportunity to reiterate their lies and horseshit, desperately shrill. Speaking over him and cutting off his answers.

 I wanted him to come out swinging and swearing. Spitting flames. Instead, he gave quite, measured confidence. He has the evidence and that's what matters. He will be a player.

I struggle between these two paths. If I were twenty, I might already be locked up. 

This should be a contender for the Pulitzer prize.

As if Renee Good wasn't enough.

This image taken moments before Alex Pretti was killed stops my heart because this could so easily have been Colin. 

You've seen his camera work. He is always the first to help a stranger should the need arise. Old-fashioned manners, good humor and heart - his father's son. 

My 5 Calls might get me investigated because I really unload on those congressional answering machines. No threats, just my unadulterated venom and a mother's/grandmother's fears.

Under storm threat

Yes, the Christmas tree is finally getting undressed.

The governor has declared a state of emergency for the whole state of Georgia based on winter weather that looks like it will only be the northern parts of the state. Maybe some snow. More likely rain with freezing temperatures which inevitably leads to trees bringing down power lines. 

I sympathize with the folks who may be affected. But I'm also keeping my eye on the fact that car haulers full of new SUVs with ICE markings and colors were delivered to locations in Atlanta a few days ago. 

Now, under some internal memo, ICE is saying that they don't need a judicial warrent to enter homes and kidnap people. I think they are forgetting where they are. There will be people excercising their second and fourth amendment rights in this open carry state. ICE be damned.

                                                                                ~★~

 "Night Gardener" has a rather prophetic tone about it, but I don't want to see it that way.

It's been sold and I want to revisit it in person before the show comes down next month. Take more photos and make sure I put my mark on it somewhere. If not, I'm going to add a label on the back. It will be nice to sit in the sun in one of those rocking chairs in the sanctuary and stitch a while.

There was a village where everyone still kept small kitchen gardens. A few chickens. There were hedges instead of fences. Footpaths everywhere. 

A stream meandered through town ponding up in some of the lower places of the village green. 

There were trees standing sentinal since the Revolutionary war providing shade and a highway for wildlife, their roots cracking the paved sidewalks all over town and no one held it against them.

It's midnight deep in July. Half the day's humidity has settled as blessed dew, the other half rising up to join a still-distant thunderstorm. Close enough for thunder. Too far away for rain. Still, all the laundry came in from the ropes at sunset. The something in the air was a lullaby. Peace.

                                                                            ~★~

Did you ever make a piece and not like it all that much for unknown reasons? Even when you know the Art is Good?

"The All Seeing Eye" has also sold. Despite the title and whatever the view gleaned from the imagery, it has no story. I worked on it rather obsessively during my first weeks of being a telecommuter. 

We were set up to work from home. Lines and software all working according to company instructions. But someone in the office forgot to send up the traffic, the customers calling in their reports or complaints. For eight hours a night for a week, I was paid to do whatever I wanted. That included an experiment with some bits of strange synthetic fabrics that I cannot recall the provenance of. Everything about this piece was experimental. The title was a late addition too, so digging up the provenance is going to be time consuming. 

Finishing

 

There will be a slight delay before I post this. 

After a lull to normalcy, the content scrapers are back. 

On the one hand, I have no fucks to waste. 

On the other, I can stop making this journal public and imagine all those swarming hordes smashing full speed into a wall that only I control.  What a cheap thrill! 

In the meantime I can still write as the mood moves me.

But lately, it's just as well I don't communicate. I imagine I have developed a venomous public persona. It might be true. We have a lot to be pissed off about.

I've stopped having imaginary conversations. They never turn out well. 

Update! Statcounter notified me that they are trialing some kind of Bot repellent. I prefer to visualize thousands of cell phones exploding in bot pockets. 

Sometime, at this portal, I give the stitches names. Secret names. 

Tomorrow I'll find the other two and see how they get along. Is three enough?

I hope so. It's been a lovely bit of lollygagging, but I have to move on. 

Close some circles. 

mixed feelings~ update

 We weren't told what pieces to bring to this cattle call. Our choices, whatever we could carry. We only knew that the exhibit space was limited.

I knew in advance that this one would have a space all to itself, because, I guess, Big and Splashy.

We were asked to lay our pieces out wherever. I chose to drape the folding chairs in the sun. I love how harsh, direct light picks out the textures. 

Then the curator walked around silently, reminding me of the judges in the TV dog shows, careful to not reveal his deliberations. One by one, he carried pieces to the available spaces, making unexpected pairs and trios. Traditional and contemporary.

The first two pieces he chose were a shock because I came to close to NOT bringing them.

I packed everything yesterday and checked my list twice. Not sure if there would be help loading the car, it was a matter of what I could carry. 

But Colin was home and carried the big bundle of folded pieces and rods to the car, and I found myself with one empty hand. I had just decided to NOT include two pieces that were hard-mounted to canvas. Mummified. 

But, I grabbed them as I walked out of the studio. "As Yet Unbaptized" and "The Bruised Heart" were chosen first.  All in all, ten of the twelve pieces I brought will be in the exhibit. The opening is tonight.

All four of these will be in the show. Yes, Turquoise seems to be my totem color. 

I have a strong emotional bond with both of these. 

"The Bruised Heart" is connected with a scene from my novel.

And "As Yet Unbaptized" with a strong memory of Jimmy's observation while I was still working on it. 

Word pushing

I've gone back to scribbling longhand on paper. 

LOTS of it. 

Now, pages will get transcribed to the raw online writing place with lots of edits happening in real-time.

 

This is what works best for me. I'll take a piece of today for that task.