connections

So many things happened this week. Many were very very good, and some were horrid. There were primary colors and drab skies and I wrote about colors and love and death. Isn't that what all poets write about? Life. Snow still covers most of the ground up here. Four horses graze in the field next door, their coats thick and fuzzy at this time of year. Makes me want to touch their necks and backs, feel the thick coats that somehow keep them warm in the deep freeze of mornings and nights.

Inedible berries and old marigolds persist in spite of the cold. They add a bit of color to this deep freeze month of January when all I can think about is when it will be over. Back east my family and friends are suffering from the cold much more than we are here as the afternoon sun actually makes me remove my hat and scarf when I walk the park paths. We are lucky to live in this beautiful landscape, but I admit it, I miss those back east. And they've all been calling and sending good wishes and energies to Ron who will have surgery in a week or so.

It feels good to have completed the manuscript that has been dogging me for a long time. Now all I have to do is try to focus again on the next one that's already half done. I'm into completing things. What a concept for me! This includes the two pairs of socks that I am working on. A third pair got sent off to its recipient and was a success. There's that kind of joy, too.

When it comes  back to teach you
or you come back to learn
how half alive you've been,
how your ignorance and arrogance
have kept you deprived --
when it comes back to you
or you yourself return,
joy is simple, unassuming.
     (excerpt from "Joy" by Thomas Centolella)

croissants in a sunny room

First day of the new year and it was a strange one. Nice weatherwise, but cold and windy, which prevented me from walking on this sunny afternoon. Because Ron decided to come along (and hates cold wind), we ended up at the only cafe open on this holiday and ate croissants, tea and coffee. The Farm Market Cafe happens to be a couple of doors away from Envison Gallery where his stabiles are being shown. He convinced me to pose with the abstract buffalo and took the picture, his first, using an iPhone (mine). He's not a techie-type and somehow managed to take 95 shots of this photo using the burst mode! Don't ask. I don't know how he did it, but I finally figured out how to get rid of all but this one. It was quite lovely at the Overland Compound and the waterfall melodically flowed down through the ice covered rocks. The sound of flowing water made me think of spring and water rushing down the rivers from the mountains--but the reality of spring snowmelt is still a very long way off and I'd better stop dreaming about it.

I love that place in three seasons and now I have to add winter. Just as long as I don't have to sit outdoors! Tomorrow I get back to work at my desk and will accept no interruptions (I missed a deadline for the first time, perhaps because it was a soft one and I took advantage of it!). There, I've said it! Don't mess with me tomorrow.

telling it slant

A quiet, soft snowfall on this Sunday morning on top of what was already a white world. Even the annoying dogs who live next door are walking slowly, surveying the fresh new world they've stepped into. The little white dog keeps disappearing into the landscape. It's a day for reading, writing, knitting, and I will continue to work on two pairs of socks to show to the new friend on the east coast. She loved the idea of socks infused with aloe vera and jojoba and wants some for herself, but there weren't any left. I managed to locate the yarn and have been intermittently working on them. The colors are delicious and I hope to make a pair for myself (if I can find more of this yarn).

I have a lunch date later to celebrate my friend's 86th birthday, but we may postpone until the sun shines again (which it's supposed to do all week, starting tomorrow). I'm not a fan of winter but I have to admit that today is especially peaceful and lovely. I wish all of you a harmonious and joyful day, wherever you are and whatever sort of weather you're experiencing on this last Sunday of 2013.

Tell the Truth but tell it slant--
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind--
               Emily Dickinson

candycane reflections

Yes, you're seeing it correctly. The Mexican market north of town is having a Jesus Sale! I went in recently to buy some pinon and cedar incense for my daughter back east and found quite a selection of the above mentioned sale items. The locally made incense squares that my daughter loves, turn any room's atmosphere into the best of the southwest (scentwise) and reminds her of this place so far from where she lives. 

Christmas buying frenzy seems to be over and the town is filled with visitors and skiers. It's a busy time of year around here as the Ski Valley really gets into gear. They're making snow up there every night since snowfall has been irregular. I don't know what the base is, but all lifts are open (in case you are planning on coming here to ski). I'm not a skier but I've been walking and just mooching around with my camera (phone and real) enjoying reflections and light decorations everywhere. Taos becomes its own small City of Light every holiday season. And speaking of holiday...dear Dante (3 year old great grandson) is really getting into it! I do love and miss that boy (and his great hair and cool shirt). I plan to see him in the spring.

solsticing

And light returns to the day, to the season. I'm so tired of waking up at 5:30 am in the deep dark before dawn and having to wait for the light. I write, read poetry, sometimes I knit, drink coffee, I even write and answer emails until the sun returns.  This morning we were greeted by a thin coat of snow that feel during the night and all was quiet and peaceful -- even the sunrise was quiet by Taos standards.

odes (to socks, yarn, poetry, winter, & pajamas)

Copies of Adobe Walls: An anthology of New Mexico Poets, arrived a few days ago.  My lightweight poem called Odes is in it. It was fun to write and it feels good to see something published.

The last two pairs of socks in my so-called inventory went out the other day to a friend in Santa Fe. I've started working on another pair using the wonderful aloe/jojoba infused yarn from Austermann. More on that later.

As this dark month begins to come to a close (hooray!) I'm devoting more of my time to unfinished writing projects, unfinished knitting and my unfinished life. Sorting and tossing things out in all categories. Occasionally I find something I'd forgotten about, like the sketch books with all the designs I never got around to knitting. (I recall that I enjoyed the drawing and designing more than the thought of actually making them!).

The morning is full on now and I will soon get back to the work at hand. No one I know has died this week and I'm feeling fine. I will be so glad to see 2013 go as I hope for many wonderful things in 2014. For you, for me, for everyone on the planet. It is nearly a consensus around here, as I talk to friends and acquaintances, that this year has been a difficult one for everyone on many levels.

What was right yesterday
is wrong today.
In what is right today,
how do you know it was not wrong yesterday?
There is no right or wrong,
no predicting gain or loss.
     Zen Master Ryokan (trans. Kazuaki Tanahashi)

fire in the sky

Just sitting at the kitchen table drinking black coffee, watching this morning's dawn show (with neighbor's Xmas lights). It lingers on and on, sensual and slow, illuminations in unexpected places, a plethora of ever-changing colors, like yarn, like a box of 1000 crayons, splattered paint at the fair, an artist's abstract paintings...

And speaking of yarn, I sold out of every pair of socks and mittz this weekend. They went to writers and artists at the retreat who spread the word and approached me. There wasn't enough inventory for everyone, but there are standing requests for finished items whenever that happens.  So I searched bags, boxes, shelves yesterday and found more UFOs (unfinished objects) than I remembered.

I tend to finish one sock and move on to a different yarn to keep me interested. Now there is a new collection to finish and since I had forgotten what was in the stash, it's all new to me!

rose quartz crystal
ancient coral
pipestone and amethyst
just dawn with coffee 
& a different joy!

 

music of the soul

This morning's almost full moon set was so compelling that I stepped out onto the deck, barefoot, at 6 AM to take a picture (my zoom lens stretched the sphere a bit, but you get the idea). Seconds later  it was gone. It 's a powerful moon for me. This year continues to discharge surreal (and some very real) elements and I wonder when and if they will end and if there will be a shift when we enter the new year. If, as some scientists say, there is no such thing as time and space, then I guess January 1st is meaningless in that context.

loss
My dear friend Phyllis's husband died on Friday. They married at 18 and 20 and were together for 71 years. He was a physicist and had Alzheimers. What could be worse? I completed a week-long writing/meditation silent retreat and then stayed with her. On Sunday, a funeral service was held on a muddy, sunny day in Taos in a tiny Jewish cemetery with only six graves, the mountains behind the rabbi were like a stage backdrop. It's been a bad year for husbands. Three of my friends lost theirs, mine had surgery that took months for recovery. My heart is full. My mind is racing. Old, important friends have reappeared in my life. You know who you are and I am completely unbalanced. I've taken to following my almost-86 year old brother's advice regarding Scotch at 4 PM -- and I'm writing like crazy. Getting the book mss. finalized. A lengthy essay and photographs will appear soon in Stitching Resistance (Solis Press, England) and a poem appeared in Adobe Walls. So there's good and bad. Life, I guess.

My dear friend Mag stayed here for a week, then both of us were together at the retreat. The home she used to live in here in Taos was dismantled after many years and she gave me a very special gift. This Limoges tiny porcelain pill box that belonged to her grandmother.  
Poetry is the music of the soul.

I march on. Many things tantalize and beckon and I no longer expect specific outcomes. The universe will unfold as it will. It seems that art critics and whiskey critics have attended the same courses and here's something I ran into today re Dewer's Scotch that my brother will appreciate (it's such a poem!):

Dewers dances nimbly across the palate, offering quick pinpricks of light malt sugar, pears, Madagascar vanilla, honey and a whisper of peat smoke.

I like the peat smoke part and am ready to leave for Scotland right now!