Gathering the kindling
Alder and Horse Chestnut
returning home dusted
gold and blood red
from their pollen
Talismans
poem travel perfume love letter//vétiver bucchu violetta//remedy for annihilation//distillation of her journey
Savage Woman
tell your woman I don’t care
let her know I’m mad and aloof with tangled hair
/a monster who bites at your trapezius
as you enter me Blinds you and covers
your ears at organism/ how you see starbursts and 10,000 years of indigo blowing in the wind in your ecstasy
tell her of the shared visions Wolves running through Broken Doll Pass
bald eagles Locked talons in a death spiral How you’ll never give up this medicine and that I told you you belong to no one and all your
Relations at once Tell her I know what true freedom is and that I skip stones across the River Styx
The Knife Drawer
#unreal #real #amabliasinsania #shesgoneagain
the knife drawer/poppies small in the sun//darura is a backdoor //hollering madrone//
Dear Strong One 2
#caregiver
To the person who posted sadness and grief due to no support what so ever from family. By the time I replied it was removed. Unfortunately it was an outline of what most of us experience.
I’m so sorry this is happening, unfortunately this is pretty much how it is for most of us. Not that that makes it any easier, or better, or acceptable. Not to center myself here but I’ll share as it may help. I had to grieve. I had to grieve a lot, still grieving and let go. Let go of structures, dynamics, and expectations, of what I thought life could, should or would be like. I literally had to look elsewhere for support. Not that I have any now, with the exception of my stroke caregiver groups. I take breaks when I can. I don’t look to old relationships, relatives, or friends as any type of support system. I had to let it all go, it was too upsetting, too infuriating, and frankly too disgusting, for me to look at. I was angry all the time, and I often still do get angry. Because it’s not acceptable. We didn’t come into this world to do life alone. To get married and be alone, have children and be alone. To endure sickness alone, to die alone. We’re supposed to have community, and be in community. We need support.
Take tiny breaks when you can. Say your peace with your relatives and begin to put you as a priority as often as you can. You matter.
Dear Strong One
#caregiver #caregiving #selflessone
I totally hear you. It’s real. Your feelings are valid, your feelings are real. Your feelings are important. I do understand how everything that is happening with your husband, being that he’s a stroke survivor, is really serious. But that doesn’t mean that your needs, desires, and emotions are invalid. They still are important, you still feel, get exhausted, run out of energy, have needs that need to be met. I’m really glad you shared your feelings. We’re all in this together. And it makes it a little bit easier when we can be very transparent, open and honest about our needs, and what it feels like to be a caregiver to someone who’s a stroke survivor. And yes I hear you, you’re blessed to still have your husband with you. And he’s going through some tough times, but so are you. I’ve been doing this for a while, I’ve had to get really good, at reweaving my life. Our life. And letting go of certain dreams, we still have dreams, but they’re different. Life can still be sweet. I hope you have time, soon to have a little cup of tea, look out a window at something beautiful. Take a shower uninterrupted. Small pleasures. Hang in there we’re with you.
Staying in cheap Motels in California
Hot all day and now the fog rolled in. Typical weather.
Recreating my life
gathering my medicine, remembering, forgetting, unraveling, repairing, reweaving, doing whatever I want to be joyous and live in peace, beauty and abundance.
Antique jewelry from North Africa. Ethiopian bands, telsums, Tuareg, ivory,
Packing up most of my work clothes
#workflow #farmgirl #farming #freedomgrower
Haven’t spoke about this too much, not sure it’s sunk in yet. Might talk about it, might not. But here’s some of my work clothes. Packing up most of them, especially late season (Autumn though Winter) clothes.
I’ll be taking a year off. I realized a few years ago that I don’t have any clothes that aren’t work clothes, ok I might have a few, but even those can be crossed over to work clothes. Haven’t bought anything for years that can’t be used for work as well. I’m still shell shocked.
Indigo in my life
Just set the dye for this one last night #indigo #mali #mudclothe #giftsfrombeloved
I have been collecting indigo and mud cloth for over 30 years. that doesn’t mean that I have a ton of it, because I’ve given most of it away. I do have a few choice pieces that I’ve kept. Not to say that I don’t continue collecting it.
In order to have and obtain the beautiful things one desires in one’s life, we must go out an obtain it or ask for it when others ask, “what would you like for your birthday? Mother’s Day? Christmas etc….” So, I have an ongoing list updated throughout the year, that lists different pieces of mudcloth, indigo, Antique Tuareg jewelry, linen sheets etc that I love.
Here’s how to set the indigo dye
Hand wash in cold water or use a washing machine set to delicate, cold water. Put the garment in by itself with a little mild soap, I use Dr. Bronner’s, then add 2 ounces of white vinegar. Let it go through the wash cycle, stay close so that you can hear the machine. Once it has drained and begins to refill with the rinse water add 2 cups of white vinegar and stop the machine. Let it sit there for two hours, after the two hours let the washing machine resume it’s cycle. When it’s complete it, take it out and let it line dry. That’s it.
