I began documenting some of the things that I have made and given away of the past few years. Mostly all have become presents for my sister and her growing family. Others have stayed around my house for my own use. I thought I would share with all of you. I am looking forward to seing this weekend and finishing up the f*%*ing wall hanging. No really I love working on it but I am ready to have it behind me now....
Well it's back to work for me!
-L
]]>A few things that i like...
To my Lover Returning to His Wife
She is all there.
She was melted carefully down for you
and cast up from your childhood,
cast up from your one hundred favorite aggies.
She has always been there, my darling.
She is, in fact, exquisite.
Fireworks in the dull middle of February
and as real as a cast-iron pot.
Let's face it, I have been momentary.
A luxury. A bright red sloop in the harbor.
My hair rising like smoke from the car window.
Littleneck clams out of season.
She is more than that. She is your have to have,
has grown you your practical your tropical growth.
This is not an experiment. She is all harmony.
She sees to oars and oarlocks for the dinghy,
has placed wild flowers at the window at breakfast,
sat by the potter's wheel at midday,
set forth three children under the moon,
three cherubs drawn by Michelangelo,
done this with her legs spread out
in the terrible months in the chapel.
If you glance up, the children are there
like delicate balloons resting on the ceiling.
She has also carried each one down the hall
after supper, their heads privately bent,
two legs protesting, person to person,
her face flushed with a song and their little sleep.
I give you back your heart.
I give you permission --
for the fuse inside her, throbbing
angrily in the dirt, for the bitch in her
and the burying of her wound --
for the burying of her small red wound alive --
for the pale flickering flare under her ribs,
for the drunken sailor who waits in her left pulse,
for the mother's knee, for the stocking,
for the garter belt, for the call --
the curious call
when you will burrow in arms and breasts
and tug at the orange ribbon in her hair
and answer the call, the curious call.
She is so naked and singular
She is the sum of yourself and your dream.
Climb her like a monument, step after step.
She is solid.
As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.
Anne Sexton
]]>My sister had her baby on July 6th. Despite my feverish attempt to finish the wall hanging for the babies arrival it is still in pieces. ..... ..
I have a goal of sewing it together this weekend.(fingers crossed)
The weekend of the 7th was joyous. We welcomed Isabelle Claire inot our family. She is small and sweet and we can already see she has her father calm disposition. She sleeps alot and hardly makes a fuss. Her older sister, Madeliene, seems to be doing alright. She is almost 3 and is trying to be a help to her mother. This weekend may have been a turning point however. My sister told me Madeliene turned to her Sunday afternoon and, in all seriousness, told her it was time for Isabelle to go back.
I have included some pictures below.
Enjoy.
-L
]]>Here are some pots I made recently. I have put many of them up for sale on my friend Andy and I's Etsy shop, dragonkite. I am getting back into the studio this week, which is exciting! I am interested in exploring lidded pots which I have not really done alot of in the past. We will see how it goes....
-L
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life is short, just make decisions and go for it.
-L
]]>Also, some additional wall hanging squares I just finished. I am determined to finish it by June 8th.
-L
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today is built for the sound of dinah washington records coming through screens. lazily sitting on a porch in the sun in a chair that swings, sipping mint juleps or iced tea, bare feet, singing, dancing, being read aloud to waiting for the sun to go down. to unearth the history stitched into my bones from another lifetime. lovely.
-L
]]>below are some pictures of the wall hanging i am making for my new neice or nephew. I am determined to finish it before the baby comes home from the hospital. with any luck i will although there is A LOT more to do before June 6th..... send good thoughts my way, i need it.
I plan on sewing and surfing this long weekend.
-L
“One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it.
But to sacrifice what you are and to live without belief,
that is a fate more terrible than dying.” -St. Joan
THE TRUTH THE DEAD KNOWGone, I say and walk from church, refusing the stiff procession to the grave, letting the dead ride alone in the hearse. It is June. I am tired of being brave.
We drive to the Cape. I cultivate myself where the sun gutters from the sky, where the sea swings in like an iron gate and we touch. In another country people die.
My darling, the wind falls in like stones from the whitehearted water and when we touch we enter touch entirely. No one's alone. Men kill for this, or for as much.
And what of the dead? They lie without shoes in the stone boats. They are more like stone than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.
Anne Sexton
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