the simple life

A couple of weeks ago I was given a vintage Kodak Box Camera. It all began when I wrote a piece and mentioned that I had my first camera, a Kodak Brownie at age 9 after begging my father for it. I took mine on field trips to the Bronx Zoo with Miss Bopp's P.S. 97 4th grade class (circa 1950). I was the only kid in the school who toted a camera on field trips.

Miss Bopp, the girlfriends...

I mentioned that I would like to find a Brownie now. Francesca, a writing friend, said she had two, given to her when she was a kid (we're the same age...don't ask) and she'd give me one. But the one she gave me turned out to be produced way earlier than my Brownie Hawkeye (her father told her it was brand new). A little research revealed that box cameras were the very first "consumer" cameras developed by Kodak around 1900. Basically, they started the snapshot craze, making photography available to everyone. I don't know if this camera works, the lens is a bit cloudy, but it doesn't matter. I'm not about to start searching for 620 film -- or converting 620 to 120... I'll just look at it. What I find amazing is that these cameras have no value today. One would think that they'd be treasured and collected. What's also amazing is that we girls in 1950 looked more like European refugees than the New York City girls of today.

BTW: Miss Bopp didn't like me. She said I didn't live up to my potential when I handed in a book report on From Here to Eternity by James Jones (I got an A but she hated me for the rest of the term). The book was good though.

outflow makes way for inflow

Trying to get back into that centered place I was in after last weekend's meditation and writing retreat by observing tonight's moon.

After three days of the craft fair, talking (and standing) non-stop, bombarded by endless Xmas music and having to sort inventory today (not much left) and stow display items again...it's, well, hard. My favorite felted bag still available though....if you're tempted, send a comment with contact info...if not, I may have to keep it for myself. oh, poor me...

At around 3 o'clock I ran into a wall of fatigue. Sipping red wine now...waiting for veggie pie to cool...

It was, in its way, a satisfying weekend filled with friends old and new, information, chaos, color, some new earrings and a couple of special items I'll post about tomorrow when I've fully recovered. I'm back to knitting hand warmers to fill requests. Not a chore. It's actually another way to enter that centered place. Looking forward to the old movie version of Pride & Prejudice with Greer Garson later tonight -- especially since I'm reading the novel again.

I release attachment
to all objects, status,
people, and institutions.
I gain by losing.
I lose by gaining.
       Wayne Dyer (Living the Wisdom of the Tao)

too much Rudoph

the calm before the chaos
It's been a week since I wrote anything on this blog. I don't think I've gone that long since I started it two years ago. It's been wild and crazy-busy as I met a couple of deadlines and prepared for the three day Yuletide Fair still happening in Taos (last day today with shorter hours). I went prepared with two dozen pairs of socks, more than a dozen mittz, assorted other items: felted bags, scarves, shawls, hats. Sharing space with good friend poet Leslie Ullman and her bead poems (check out her books).

We're having fun and it's exhausting to talk and stand all day for three days! Sustained by green tea, chocolate, and biscochitos (via our Taos Pueblo neighbors), and, oh yeah, flat shoes!

The mittz are nearly gone, only a handful of socks...I changed the display yesterday...move the energy around...

There are approximately 100 vendors who range from professionals who do the craft fair circuit all year with custom booths, to the once-a-year crafters with folding tables, pegboard and burlap (ours). There is gorgeous sophisticated jewelry, others not so sophisticated, lots of southwestern turquoise, fabric designers, artists, photographers, Xmas stuff and fabric designers like our neighbor Terrie Hancock Mangat with her art quilts, aprons and design. There's honey, biscochitos, storyteller dolls, fruit pies from the Pueblo, sand dollars covered in silver. In a word: it's a riot of items from people whose passions and hobbies have run amuck! Love it!

There's been a constant flow of people so I haven't had a chance to walk around to take pictures. There's barely time to go to the rest room and when we try to sit for a moment the booth fills up with people and we're up again! The biggest negative (aside from not knowing if my body can bend again from a standing position)? Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer sung by Gene Autry, over and over and over. And if I hear Dean Martin singing I'll be Home For Christmas one more time I may do some damage.

the music of silence

What a weekend it's been! Starting on Friday afternoon, until tonight, I participated in a writing/meditation workshop at UNM. It was the second and final weekend of the class led by Sean Murphy (check out his books). I'm so glad to have him in my life again. Years ago, we wrote in a friend's zendo with a handful of other people. We celebrated various events in each other's lives (weddings and birthdays) and then got involved in our separate worlds. We only ran into each other in the inevitable small town way. In a word, this weekend was perfect! I'm so glad to be returning to a meditation practice. Yesterday afternoon, we left the quiet empty campus building and walked outside to the area where one of the students is creating a meditation labyrinth as a final class project for another class. In silence (most of us) we collected stones that she will fashion into a "snake" labyrinth by spring. The sun shone down on us and the wind was gentle, creating a perfect atmosphere in which to work. Today we did chi gong practice out there and although it was sunny, it was windy and cold! Right now, the labyrinth is a pile of rocks, but I'll post photos as it progresses. Gathering stones and rocks was like gathering shells on a beach -- with almost as much variety. Pink. Gray. Greenish. Striped.

While this was happening today, our dear and loveable great grandson Dante was celebrating his second birthday 2,000 miles away. We received, through the miracle of technology, photos and a video of him opening the gifts we sent. He seemed to especially like the felted socks I made for him (there were also books and finger puppets).

And tonight I received this picture of Dante with his parents Kira and Elmer and the Cookie Monster cake. For a few moments, we transcended distance. How do I love thee, technology? Let me count the ways.

Happy Birthday dear Dante

wool, cookies, words

Our daytime temperatures are in the 50s (F) now. Sort of confusing. Warmth in mid-November isn't especially common. I remember past Novembers here with six inches of snow on the ground and icey sidewalks in town.  But yesterday afternoon I found myself sitting on the deck, wearing a light sweater, flip flops, a straw hat, light first snow behind me on mountain peaks, reading Jack Gilbert's poetry. He died a few days ago and I wanted to honor him in some way. Hot sun on my skin, reading about Greek sun, ravens gathering in trees noisily. People talking lately about multitudes of ravens everywhere and wondering why. Not a real life version of The Birds, just an an environment in which they thrive -- at least that's my non-ornithological opinion. So I play with color and words, read, write a little, knit.

It's all the same. Color. Words. No matter from where they emanate. Do we all see it the same way? Do you feel the power? The older woman in me loves the quote from Judi Dench that I read today:

One of the benefits of being a mature, well-educated woman is that you are not afraid of expletives. And you have no fear to put a fool in his place. That's the power of language and experience. You learn a lot from Shakespeare.

where the wild things are
I finish a couple more pairs of Wild Thing Mittz. Many have already been claimed. It seems this is the year for fingerless hand warmers. At the supermarket self-checkout today, my inventory at home ten miles north, a friend claimed the last cashmere pair, sight unseen. And last night watching old movies, I finished these two in wool (left) and alpaca (right):

And decided to display socks at the Yuletide Fair next week in a sweet little vintage-look case. What do you think?

The second half of my meditation/writing workshop happens this weekend starting tomorrow so I'll be unable to tweak any more unfinished knitted items. Then its an article to write and some blocking and tagging of hand knits. Ron will do all the Thanksgiving cooking (unless I decide to bake an apple pie) and we will enjoy the feast together, alone at home while I put finishing touches on inventory for the Fair starting at 9 next morning. But most important today, I mailed a box of books and bears to dear Dante who will celebrate his second birthday on Sunday. I understand the theme is Cookie Monster.

...We stand/looking at the ruin of our garden
in the early dark of November, hearing crows
go over while the first snow shines coldly
everywhere. Grief makes the heart
apparent as much as sudden happiness can.
             (last lines of Jack Gilbert's "Harm and Boon in the Meetings")

insignificant musings

Okay, let's start here. Last evening at sunset I go out onto freezing cold deck in flipflops and heavy sweater and face west. Suddenly I am seeing Pedernal -- Georgia O'Keefe's famous Ghost Mountain in Abuquiu. Hello? Abiquiu is 60+ miles away! I'm awed. And so grateful for dynamic camera technology that doesn't cost a fortune.

And speaking of technology, there's facebook -- which I have gotten so involved in lately that I'm blogging less and feeling worse. There's something voyeuristic about fb isn't there. I love connecting with friends from Atlanta to Alaska and knowing where they are in their lives, their trips, creative pursuits, accomplishments, pictures of their babies, their activism and loads and loads of wise quotes. I like to share pictures of my handknits and promote them when a show is coming up. I like reading links to articles published in places I might not ordinarily see... Of course, my fb friends are carefully chosen and it's mostly congenial and informative. But I'm checking it a little too often lately and now there are distant family member friends and I feel like I'm reading their mail.  But that's not all. I'm seeing my everyday world in terms of posts and photos! oh my. Does anyone else have this problem? Should I seek help? Back to the only help available at the moment...stress-reliever...knitting...

These are the latest Wild Thing Mittz. Already sold a couple of pairs (on fb). Oh, and cashmere (thank you JF)...

And angora/silk/wool winter scarf...

I have to go now. Have an appointment in town and need to pick up something for dinner. The sun is shining, the air is freezing, my toes are cold (in spite of wool socks) and I'm sorely in need of a change of scenery away from technology. Skin is dry, need to apply Ultra moisture cream against cold and get over envy of fb friend in bathing suite on Venice, CA beach (not that I'd ever wear a bathing suit!). And miss sharing ice cream with dear Dante at Sweet Ashley's. And visiting BBF's Bodega Bay house over Thanksgiving.  I think I read once that technology is causing more stress than relieving it. Dare I leave my iPhone at home?

where colors are made

"stick to your blue and be happy"
It happened. The last beautiful day of autumn. I knew it was coming soon, the dimly perceived threat hanging over us every warm and summery day for weeks. I was compelled yesterday to take this year's last picture of the small clusters of rugosa still blooming on the old bush against the house.

Endless days of cloudless blue skies blown away by today's howling November wind, just as all color is blowing away and replaced with pale grey as far as the eye can see. Autumn dust swirls in fields, a  silvery airplane passes overhead. The room I work in is cold. I turned the heat down last week, it will take some time to warm up again. There was thin frost on the car window this morning. There's always some last thing, isn't there? A last photograph, a last kiss. A last poem read. The last rose of summer. Persephone goes underground again, the bitch...

turn away, turn toward
...the delicious Kocheron scarf. Swirls of angora, wool, silk, caressing the neck. The mannequin's, mine, or someone I haven't met. Will consider all requests.

And the latest pair of knitz mittz. Can't remember if I posted pics of the pairs I finished last week, but I've been turning them out like baguettes in a bake shop. Shelves full now, close up shop.

Time compresses and I'm taking a rest from inventory knitting. There's enough for the Yuletide show in less than three weeks. What I really want to do is start Dante's sweater. He'll be turning two on the 18th and his favorite color is blue. I'll be scouting yarn shops this weekend to find the perfect yarn for his sweater. I already have the pattern -- a lightly cabled pullover.

I probably shouldn't say his, but I will:
You don't have to worry about blue.
Get the value right and the shade will follow,
and if you don't like it, lots of others will.
        Stephen Beal, The Very Stuff (also the quote at the top)

the theee faces of Me

Well, it is over. The pre-election stress. I'm stowing the valerian, the Rescue Remedy drops, the rose petal tea. Pleased with election outcome and trying to ignore racist comments from Fox News that a family member (who I care about and can't divorce because he's a relation) cleaves to: "the minority welfare queens are responsible for President Obama's re-election". There was a lot more in the quote (O'Reilly) but I'm trying not to absorb this negative stuff. Focusing instead on Joseph Campbell's quote: "Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain."

Athena, nasty goddess
Still split in body and mind by east coast extreme weather conditions and people I love having a hard time versus our perfect ongoing endless Indian Summer here. By now there should be snow on the mountains in Taos, wintery November cold, and skiers getting excited. Instead, it's shirtsleeves and open windows during the day. Each new day I expect to be the last beautiful day of autumn and then another dawns warmer and prettier. I personally like the freedom from snow and cold, but worry about the lack of moisture. That worry inevitably lurks behind lovely dry weather here. Gotta keep worrying though, because if we stop, things go bad -- yeah, it's the way I grew up, too.

the next day
Spent yesterday at Llano Quemado polling precinct as a Democratic Challenger. No challenges were necessary, it's a small precinct with people who have lived there and known each other through generations. There were no two hour lines. Indeed there were only five or six people waiting to vote at any one time and mostly fewer. The Republican Challenger didn't show up. I observed young people enthusiastically and nervously voting for the first time and others casting votes -- emerging from the flimsy cardboard "booths" after having marked off their paper ballots -- with confidence and pride. Old people with walkers and oxygen tanks, families with kids, folks voting and then coming back with family members and friends who hadn't yet voted. One frail elderly man came in with his daughter. He was wearing an army cap with two medals proudly displayed on it. He was just keeping her company he said. He had voted early. For me, yesterday was a microcosm of what democracy is all about -- the 98% who run the motor of our world. How often do we see that? I am grateful to have been a witness and a minor helper. A friend (whose humor rocks me) came by to vote and although I couldn't speak to him (a rule for challengers and poll watchers), when he left he said loudly, "thanks for protecting our democracy." You're welcome Sean, it's just another ordinary day's work.

VOTE!

I will be a New Mexico poll challenger tomorrow. Watchers and challengers from both parties are absolutely essential to voter protection efforts. I don't expect problems here in Taos. In the past when I've done this, I've found poll workers to be super vigilant about doing things "by the book".

The goal is to ensure that all eligible voters who want to vote are allowed to vote and that every eligible vote is counted.

I urge everyone reading this to vote tomorrow if you haven't done so already. Don't be cynical or dismissive. Preserve our basic right by utilizing it!

food and warmth

chocolate + cashmere
right here in Taos in a shop at the end of Bent Street.

Golightly Cashmere makes beautiful products in pure Mongolian cashmere. Although I often work with cashmere yarn (when I can afford to buy it) and can knit most of the products they sell, instant gratification compels strongly.

Golightly's products are made locally on old fashioned knitting machines.

They've added hand made chocolates to the mix. Oh my! Raspberry green chile dark...

 hazelnut praline dark...

I'm feeling faint now...hats...more...

Okay, better now, the spell is over. Oh, did I tell you that they sell balls of leftover cashmere yarn...?

and now for the other reality
In the background on this sunny Sunday morning,  I hear the weather news. Another storm is expected to hit the east coast by mid week. An army of volunteers in New Jersey are gathering dirty laundry from people who have worn the same clothes they had on when the storm hit.  With no electricity or washing machines and dryers (many without homes at all) they are unable to do anything about it. Laundry has been the least of their problems so a volunteer group has formed and are gathering worn and muddy clothing, washing and returning it. An everyday occurrence is suddenly a blessing.

a river that goes singing
past the bedrooms of the suburbs,
and the river is silver, cement, or wind
in the lying daybreak of new York.
The mountains exist, I know that.
     Federico Garcia Lorca ("New York")