Seasons @ MindSay

Just a thought about Canadian seasons.
Summer - thunderstorms
Autumn - fog
Winter - snow and ice
Spring - icky mud seasons and allergy central.

Still 3/4 seasons to love, not bad.

And I still can't stop procrastinating. oh my god.

Cold weather means a real shift for me art and fiber wise. Gone are those warm days when i could wash wool on the garden level patio, or felting away while Nina  Simone sang in the background. Winter brings a need to hunker down in front of  the wood stove with a book or a hank of wool. The loom gets moved to a space facing the tv. so I can weave while a Ralph Fiennes movie gives me the rythm one need to get the weft and warp so even and smooth and not have selvages that look like the cat has been chewing them.

It's a more inward time where ideas continue to perk but just as the metabolism of small animals changes so does my artistic metabolism. It's a good time to dye batches of wool as they need heat and I want heat. and it's also a good time to actually sew because the studio temperature invites the steam iron to be on for long periods.

Abigail;s going back and forth between the house and studio gets cut off because the door has to stay closed for the heat to stay in  but I find that  just as I enjoy the smell and comforts of the warm fibers, she makes small nests in the fabric caches and goes to sleep quickly.  Which is good that most of my wool and silk starts white because  as she sheds all over them it's not as obnoxious as when she decides to roll around on a piece of black linen  or velvet.

The fiber group I began this summer I  hope will continue. we have shifted to a sundat after noon as up here in the NW it gets dark quite early. and I have come to look forward to the company of these women. funny how binds can form quickly when one comes together over something passionately central to one's life- creating something from  nothing. our number is up to six. I am considering letting in one more woman because I  lean towards the asymmetry of seven.... but she might be a little anal. even for me. So time will tell. I have invited her. no response. and tomorrow is our next get together. so lulu and louise and beth and pat and kim and I will munch, sip tea, play with fibers and talk about our lives.  doesn't get much better when you want to bounce ideas around. shalom.

Well, it's time to welcome the month of February. Or as some call it, the month of love. Welcome to 2009, February - it's a year you won't ever forget. XD

I just got back from church, recently. Went to a different "service", persay - about ten teens accompany me in that room. We talk about teen stuff. (Duh. XD) Today we talked about worry, how to handle it, and what most teens worry about. My church teacher told me that he'd like me to come every week, since I have such an interesting input. I sometimes sleep in, so I don't quite make it every week. It's a habit I guess I need to break. Hey, even right now, the thing I need right now the most is God.

Oh, and speaking of which - my church is putting on an Easter play (about Jesus' crucifixion) in April-ish, and I'm in it. I'm a part of the crowd. They sent me a package, and they said practicies will be held sometime in March.

I don't know what to do for the rest of my day. Maybe I'll play a few Video Games, and spend some time with Mario and training my Pokemon. =D Tonight, I might crawl into bed and finally pick up a book and start reading - or I might just go to bed and daydream my way to sleep. I need sleep, especially for the day tomorrow.
Well, again - I'm greatly anticipating tomorrow, as it is the start of second semester. Yet I feel a little bit nervous. It's like starting the year all over again, only with different classes, teachers, and classmates. Oh well, I'm sure I'll enjoy it. ^^

I might decorate my binders as the semester progresses. If I do end up doing so, I might put photos up here. XD

Snow still remains outside. I just love the look of it, but I'm sick of its presence already... Hey, it's Canada - snow arrives from about the end of November, at the earliest and stays here until around the beginning of March. And since I'm so thin, and very sensitive to temperature, and I hate the cold - snow and me aren't really the best of friends. I really like the time of Spring when it gets to be the perfect temperature, and you get to see everything bloom again. When you really look at it, seasons go by so quickly - and before we know it, bam, another year has past us. Goes to show we should savour our time, huh?

Not much to say now. I feel tired and hungry. I might go fetch me a small snack to eat. I feel like a shower, oddly enough, even though I got one last night...
Anyway, catch ya laterz! =D

The dark came down on All Hallows' Eve. We went to sleep to the sound of howling wind and pelting rain, and woke on the Feast of All Saints to whiteness and large soft flakes falling down and down in absolute silence. There is no more perfect stillness than the solitude in the heart of a snowstorm.

This is the thin time, when the beloved dead draw near. The world turns inward, and the chilling air grows thick with dreams and mystery. The sky goes from a sharp clear cold where a million stars burn bright and close, to the gray-pink cloud that enfolds the earth with the promise of snow.

I took one of Bree's matches from its box and lit it, thrilling to the tiny leap of instant flame, and bent to put it to the kindling. Snow was falling, and winter had come; the season of fire. Candles and hearth fire, that lovely, leaping paradox, that destruction contained but never tamed, held at a safe distance to warm and enchant, but always, still, and with that small sense of danger.

The smell of roasting pumpkins was thick and sweet in the air. Having ruled the night with fire, the jack-o'-lanterns went now to a more peaceful fate as pies and compost, to join the gentle rest of the earth before renewal. I had turned the earth in my garden the day before, planting the winter seeds to sleep and swell, to dream their buried birth.

Now is the time when we reenter the womb of the world, dreaming the dreams of snow and silence. Waking to the shock of frozen lakes under waning moonlight and the cold sun burning low and blue in the branches of the ice-cased trees, returning from our brief and necessary labors to food and story, to the warmth of firelight in the dark.

Around a fire, in the dark, all truths can be told, and heard, in safety.

I pulled on my woolen stockings, thick petticoats, my warmest shawl, and went down to poke up the kitchen fire. I stood watching wisps of steam rise from the fragrant cauldron, and felt myself turn inward. The world could go away, and we would heal.

"A De'il in the Milk," A Breath of Snow and Ashes by Diana Gabaldon

Chinese couplets are a form of poetry where word or syllable length must match and there should be some parallelism or antithesis within  the pair.
here are some of mine inspired by Lan Su Yuan ( Portland's Classical Chinese Garden)


1.
Lone hawk gorging on mourning dove gets trapped
Mandarin ducks stay coupled in freedom

(this actually happened two weeks ago when a cooper's hawk got trapped in the scholar's study)
2.
Birds sing, frogs croak, snake hisses.
Bush can lie with many words.
 
(double meaning here)
3.
Fall coloring casts summer shadows.
Winter whiteness reflects plum blossom.
4.
Lotus seeds shaking warns summer ending.
Camellia bud softens winter's first bite

(as the lotus heads ripen the camellia buds fill.)
5.
Scent of osmanthus reminds us of summer.
Crisp crush of leaves underfoot tells us it's fall.
(the scene in the tranquility courtyard)

October 2008 dku