the light changes

Awakened this morning to this picturesque and exotic scene outside my kitchen windows. Snow is expected to hang around until Monday. Since I'm not the intrepid type, I won't be walking in the park today. When I do go into town it will be to the Spa where I will sign up for the duration of this cold season. Did I say that I hate exercise machines? It's all okay though, isn't it? As time does it's thing, winter will pass in the blink of an eye (it goes faster as we grow older) and before we know it, April will be here. But for now, what's here is Clyde (mate of Bonnie) -- woodpecker couple who are trying to make a hole-home in my house which is, fortunately, stucco.

This is a Red-shafted Flicker and its territory is a wide area around the Rocky Mountains. His breast is decorated with black and white polka-dots! When he flies there is a bit of salmon under his wings. I posted this gorgeous guy's photo on facebook and got lots of comments about how much damage woodpeckers can do. (I'm glad we don't live in a wood-trimmed house). But you gotta love the magic of nature. How did this variety of artwork land on a simple flying creature?

Throw off your tiredness. Let me show you
one tiny spot of the beauty that cannot be spoken.
     Rumi (trans. Coleman Barks)

just November

Not very much has happened in this interim except quotidian things, so I'm taking the time these days to notice the extraordinary in the ordinary.

From light rain falling on old leaves, and dried grasses like flowers, popping up through cracks in brick walkways...to major snow falling on mountain peaks and us....

A week away from this blog has seen a whirlwind of change, yet nothing has changed. November deals out its warm sunny days and its snowstorms, it's full moon, it's thunder and lightning and shorter days. It snows at night and we wake to hot coffee and a white world. I'm reading Paul Auster's compelling "Winter Journal" and it fits my sideways-slipping mood on this white day of absolutely no sun. I love his style of writing. Not surreal, but not quite real either.

Great grandson Dante turned three this week...I hear he had a fine party and more pictures will be forthcoming. I would have liked to be there with him.

A raven screams from a November tree limb, waiting for the storm to hit...the tree had been full of ravens, but when they saw me approaching they flew off -- all except this one who eventually just screamed three loud notes (ne-ver-more) and held his ground (or limb)....

I spent a three day weekend in a meditation and writing session and felt the calming effects for a couple of days -- then lost it in another type of whirlwind called emotion.  Someone close to me was in a serious motorcycle accident, will be fine, but it unleashed a whole series of tilt-a-whirls in my life. I continue to work on the book and to feel gratitude for all good things, including not having to obsessively knit for the craft fair next week as I've done in so many past years. Freely chosen. Freely refused. There will be hand knitted socks, felted bags, a few mittz, and one special cashmere lace shawl, for anyone who wants them, but they're limited editions, you'll have to contact me, and I won't be standing around "selling" for three days at the Convention Center. Nice change. Now, if I can just get into that Zen place and chop wood and carry water --- or at least clean up my workroom and turn it into a guest room for my BB friend who is coming to visit soon.

of handsome sailors

I hadn't realized it was Veteran's Day today until I noticed facebook friends posting pictures of fathers and husbands and American flags. I was reminded about a photo that sat on the coffee table in my parents home for decades and that I still had somewhere. So I decided to join the flow, found the photo, and wrote on fb that we weren't much of a military family, but my father was in the Coast Guard, a handsome uncle was in Panama during WWII, and I do remember quite well my handsome brother Frank. He joined the Navy when I was five years old -- asked for permission to leave after his little sister's birthday and permission was granted. He became a pharmacist's mate on board the aircraft carrier USS Saipan from 1945-48. I posted this picture on facebook an hour or so ago and so far six of my friends seem to have fallen in love with the young sailor. My 81 year old friend said he was the kind of guy she wanted to dance with at YMCA dances!

He is my only sibling and will turn 86 in January. He is still handsome. I do wonder though, whose hand he is holding in this photo. I'm going to find out!

nothing to compare

I've really fallen down on the job of blogging lately. Thank you for staying with me, readers, your numbers haven't dwindled. There's just so much time in a day and I'm trying to take chunks of that time for writing, relaxation, meditation. During this span of blog-absence I haven't left Taos (except in my mind and my writing) and we've experienced snow (14" in the Ski Valley), spring-like weather, more snow, even rain. Snow covered  peaks against blue skies are still so awesome to me who lived most of my life in east coast boroughs and suburbs. And our famous sunsets, brief, dramatic and elusive, are in full splendor.

I'm still knitting (it's genetic) but without the intensity I usually have to deal with at this time of year, which means, without a three-day craft fair excuse starting next day,  I'll probably have to cook Thanksgiving dinner! As for the hand knits, it's only limited edition items now for my sock collectors who ask what's new, along with a handful of other items (knitz mittz) from the inventory I'd started before Surreal Season 2013 began (and continues). I'm working on a couple of special gifts, but priorities have changed. Not having to do the craft fair is so liberating that I almost feel I'm on vacation! Has the weather always been so changeable during this month? Were there other days and times that felt like summer in November? Or deep winter? It feels good to not have all the answers. A change in priorities is the best thing to do for one's mental health.

sign on London street

poetry & motion
Every year, the NEA sponsors an event called The Big Read with the aim of "revitalizing the role of literary reading in American popular culture." This year's book is Sun, Stone, and Shadows (20 Mexican short stories). All over the country the books are being given out free and events are scheduled. Here in Taos, one event a couple of days ago, was a SOMOS sponsored reading and talk by keynote author Denise Chavez. I hadn't seen her in several years and happily went to the reading event at Moby Dickens bookshop on Thursday.

Denise is so dynamic and such a fine writer/performer that she inspires and revitalizes. She read (and performed) from her new novel coming out in 2014 from University of Oklahoma Press. Sorry for the bad photo with the globe growing out of her head, but photographic opportunities were limited in the crowded space. Many people squashed into the upper floor of the shop and books and Mexican pastries from Rosita's were served with coffee. Some of us made plans with Denise to meet in Las Cruces next year for the Borders Book Festival now in its 20th year. She is its director. On my roster this weekend is more art and poetry: St. Francis, and a poetry/tea at the Taos Jewish Center this afternoon (we are a mixed bunch here in Taos). All in all, I like being on my self imposed sabbatical.

 (St. Francis wood sculpture below by Floyd Archuleta).

The moon is a house
in which the mind is master.
Look very closely:
only impermanence lasts.
This floating world, too, will pass.
        Ikkyu (trans. S. Hamill)




 

snow, then

A few years ago, my friend Sean Murphy wrote a novel called The Time of New Weather (excellent, funny, smart) and today that title flits in and out of my mind as a variety of weather comes to Taos. Always new, even if familiar. It's that time of year again. And we still don't have a fireplace in this odd contemporary house (there's just no place to put it with all the windows and glass walls). A blazing fire would be perfect tonight as the snow falls. But if we wait a few minutes it will all probably change. After rain/snow last night the clouds began to lift...

by the time I walked in the park it was lovely...until it changed again...

It's good weather for writing and editing and I'm making progress in those areas. There's actually more coming out of me than I can keep up with. A very unusual occurrence! But I'm not questioning it, just going with the flow as I'm trying to do with everything else in my life that's gotten a bit complicated lately -- but at least I don't have to knit inventory for a craft show (yea!).

My dear friend Phyllis's life and new book of poetry was celebrated on Sunday at the Taos Jewish Center and about 50 people showed up. I was given the honor of saying a few words about her and how we worked together for SOMOS through the years and about our Italian/Jewish/Bronx connection. She has been my friend, sister, mentor and inspiration for a long time. And she's working on a new collection as I write this.

The path is hidden
by snow,
invisible,
but thoughts of you
lead me onward.
       (Zen Master Ryokan)

alchemy

Not much has happened in this last eight days or so since I last wrote here. My postings will be less frequent for awhile as I plug away at the manuscripts and curtail my social life even more -- and that's awfully boring to write about. But this came up. Trucks. Not the one pictured above, the quintessential Taos truck, but our 1993 Toyota pickup. Due to the accident with the new car a couple of weeks ago and because it was in the shop, I drove the old truck around town. First couple of days I complained bitterly. So high that it requires effort for me (not exactly tall) to climb into it. Kind of rough ride, no place to put the groceries except on the passenger seat and floor....blah blah blah. And then something happened -- I really started enjoying the experience. It was fun. Sitting tall in a vehicle at least as big as other vehicles in parking lots that usually dwarf mine, nice change from his Miata or the sedate Corolla. With trucks on my mind, and as I edited some poems, I found this draft written some time ago:

What happened that made me forget
how it feels to drive the old pickup
on a hot summer afternoon
with all the windows open
warm wind blowing in my hair.
Or how it feels to sit in the cool
night darkness with a candle.
What happened that made me forget
to notice the smell of newly cut hay,
neat squares in my neighbors' fields.
Or that sagebrush, after rain, smells like vanilla.
Always longing to travel to other places
I forgot that this place was new for me
was all I wanted
desperately
like love.

The Corolla is at last all fixed and shiny with no sign of damage, only today when I stopped for gas the tank cover wouldn't open and I had to drive nine miles back to the shop and have it checked. A minor adjustment and it was fine. Then I realized that I couldn't find my debit card and must have dropped it at the gas station when I was trying to figure out what to do about the cover. I zoomed back to the station (nine miles in the other direction as the gas level got lower and lower) and discovered that an honest person had found the card and turned it in. I hadn't realized how stressful the whole minor incident had been and when I got home I collapsed into a minor book where I've been ever since, until now.

Beauty everywhere in the park today as the heavy cloud cover of early morning began to lift off. The soft days are almost gone. I no longer walk in the early morning because it's quite cold and I'm a sissy. I wait till mid-morning or later when the sun, if it's going to shine, will keep me warm.

In between editing and writing bouts, I've picked up a couple of unfinished knitting projects that seem new and interesting again. I stash them near my computer so that when I get stuck on something or find myself editing words out of existence, or putting back words that I just took out,  I pick up the needles and wool and shift from the head to the hands. And it's all good. A peek at my general horoscope for next month informs me (like the lace ribbon scarf):  
Look to the future with optimism!
Things will fall into place.

light in my eyes

Well, I've done it again. No blog postings for a week. I'm trying to get back to my more frequent postings but I've been so involved in editing for my forthcoming book (Fall 2014) that I'm losing track of time. But tonight, the almost-full Hunter's Moon called to me and I had to share what I saw at 6:35 pm MDT. Apparently this moon rises around sunset (tonight) and sets around sunrise and it's the only night in this month when the Moon is in the sky all night long. Cool!

I want to dance in its light, but it's kind of chilly out there these last few days. Yesterday we awakened to an all-white world here at 7500 feet. It felt a bit overwhelming and way too soon. By afternoon (and today) the sun had returned and the wet snow melted -- except on the highest peaks. I think I can already hear Taos skiers cheering (although the Ski Valley won't open until after Thanksgiving).

Speaking of which, I've made the final decision to not participate in the Yuletide Craft Fair this year (weekend after Thanksgiving) -- after many many loyal and committed years. What I will have for purchase are a limited edition of special hand knit socks and mitts. This is the end of inventory production for me. What is available will go to collectors who are already making contact in the frantic mode of Fear of Loss. Also, after the holidays I will be selling off my entire yarn stash and will post the event information here. My priorities are changing and I'll let you know where they might be going once I'm sure myself. I'll always knit (it's my occupational therapy) but not as a going enterprise anymore. For now, what I desire more than anything else is to be back east with my family and special friends for this late autumn time. And to be with my dear Dante who is busy these days apple-picking and pumpkin-posing and who will celebrate his third birthday in mid-November. He's a dreamboat.