stuff is still in many boxes and have very little space to unbox all the stuff. but i’m feeling again like i might live a life, breathe normally. in order to feel like i am who i am, i made some work, some prints, some paper. it felt good. so now i have a lot of raw flax paper, some with additions of linen cloth (mustard, light green and white), pigment (indigo) and that small run of purple. because i have no real way to heat up a big pot of dye i bought what’s called hereabouts a turkey fryer. living off grid means that any electrical device except one that makes heat is “free power”. ( i am fully aware of stuart brand’s dictum: there’s no such thing as free lunch). running a toaster on a cloudy day can mean a big drain on the system. and the kitchen is off limits (cook’s rules) for studio work. some of these restrictions weigh heavily on me, as i’ve used my kitchen as cooking source for many years. i will get used to the change.
this has actually saved my life, this making of paper, and my current love, flax. (well, besides milkweed. and…) gifts of caring have come my way, a box of linen off-cuts from dianne ayers (arts & crafts period textiles) came from california. aimee sustains me with notes and email, carol (warwick press) sent me her newest books, melissa brought me lovely indigo kimono scraps from japan, and still i flounder in this heat and humidity and try so hard to make sense of my making, avoiding despair, looking forward to good things (tim ely’s class starting next sunday). my children check in, too. but this is not a little matter, this life altering move.
a few wonderful folks have written with inquiries about purchasing paper, and those orders have been dispatched. it feels good to have some paper go out into the world. but more, it’s a vote of confidence for me, i can make stuff. i still can do it. maybe i can face the boxes here, the ones with projects still to complete. and to put on the website. and, and, and…