Thursday's Song: Nothing is Written (I'll Kneel Down), Mumford & Sons

I came home
Like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms
These days of dust
Which we've known
Will blow away with this new sun

And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Wait for now

So break my step
And relent
You forgave and I won't forget
Know what we've seen
And him with less
Now in some way
Shake the excess

And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Know my ground

Now I'll be bold
As well as strong
Use my head alongside my heart
So take my flesh
And fix my eyes
That tethered mind free from the lies

And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Know my ground
And I'll kneel down
Wait for now

Raise my hands
Paint my spirit gold
And bow my head
Keep my heart slow

And raise my hands
Paint my spirit gold
And bow my head
Keep my heart slow

Project: Britt and Dan's Guestbook

A heavy-hearted post yesterday, but I am happy to share one of my happier moments today.


A friend from work, Britt, asked me early last summer if I would create a guestbook for her wedding in September. We tossed around ideas for a few weeks. She liked the thumbprint idea, but wanted something a little more original. 


We decided to go with an UP-style balloon cloud, but Britt wanted a golf cart to anchor it, since she and Dan both like golf...well, Dan likes TO golf, and Britt enjoys a good book from the seat of the golf cart on a sunny day.


I went to work, and, sad to say, failed to photograph much of my process. My plan was to use a linoleum block stamp for the golf cart, so I spent a lot of my time designing a clean, print-friendly version (did you know there are not that many vintage-y golf cart designs out there? Apparently affording a golf cart is a relatively recent phenomenon.).


Dan also is a big fan of BMW's, so I eventually sketched up a wobbly design hybrid incorporating some BMW elements into a basic golf cart, transferred a reverse onto the linoleum block, and consequently ruined one of my (twelve-dollar Ikea) coffee tables with my enthusiastic carving.


I used a xylene transfer pen to carefully transfer a reverse image of their names and wedding date, and painstakingly stamped a centered print of the golf cart design. (Bonus: Britt got to keep the stamp!)


Since it's on a huge sheet of white rag paper, we did not want guests putting fingerprints where they should not go. I carefully cut out an oval shape of draft paper vellum to fit the basic area where the cloud of fingerprints would be. The vellum protected the rest of the paper...thank goodness, for many wedding guests had a heyday putting thumbprints all over the vellum layer!

The little instruction sheet says "Our friends and family lift us up. Please add your print to the party!"

Britt picked out a bright stamp pad, and I made a small sample image by way of instructions. After the wedding, she returned the guest book to me and I evened out the cloud of thumbprints and added the string lines. I found that adding a few delineating lines here and there also helped the overall definition of the image.



This was such a fun project with so many unique details to work out. I loved being a part of Britt and Dan's special day!


Maybe once Britt gets it framed, I'll get use a real camera and get a good photo!

Doubled by Wonder

"I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder." - G. K. Chesterton


I suppose--no, I know--that everybody has times of feeling down, blue, lonely, alone, marginalized, paralyzed, unnecessary, discouraged, wasted, jaded, bored, and possibly completely unnecessary. 


Here is where part of me would like to go into a litany of circumstances outlining why I have been going through just such a stage, and maintain that although I am healthy, wealthy, and have food, shelter, and clothing in abundance, I have some comparative right to feel so.


I could talk about the many younger friends I've helped, showered, and attended into marriage this year. I could mention the even more friends who seem to be in love all around me, forecasting yet another 'year'o' weddings', the complete unlikeliness that seems to be my reality that I have met or will ever meet That Best Friend, or the fact that I cannot seem to afford a vacation this year, when I feel so desperately at the end of myself and in need of rest. Myriad frustrations at home and work which I must deal with alone. I could also mention the facade of bitter withdrawal I've been building up as a form of protection, even against my closest friends.


The fact is happiness is unnecessary. Reasons to cry will always be there. Especially in the car, driving in to work in the dark and away from work in the dark, driving home alone from anything, really. 


The fact is the best things are "unnecessary". Unexpected Delight. Delicious (and beautiful) food. Pretty clothes. Pretty shoes. Music. Movies. Jewelry. Wallpaper. Any beauty at all. Technically, we don't need the sun to set in a flood of gold over the Pacific below, under a rampart of rose and purple above. It is beyond need, it is beyond deserving, it is beyond necessity. It is something altogether different. 


I don't need to be happy. 


But maybe, if I can still wonder at a sunset, tear up at baptisms, delight at an adorable pair of shoes, dance at (yet another) wedding, revel in the scent of melting beeswax as I paint, laugh at a story, enjoy anything...If I can wonder, and be grateful for the chance to, then I can still be, unnecessarily, unnaccountably, happy.


PS: There is always hope.

Branch and Root

Sere and fallow winter--

land lies at rest but not at peace

Even the black-branched trees

are dissatisfied with new, broad gap

between their branch-tips and the sky's roof

I imagine them dreaming

of reversing their roots, and 

growing columned into the sky, 

rooting into that atmosphere

A canopy of roots; then, bursting the chains of soil

with new leaves below the ground,

an outcry against the decomposition of 

thousands of brother-leaves.

A murmuring rumor

of death's reversal

seems to whisper

through their tired and

waiting branches.

New Year

Some holidays aren't difficult to figure out your social events as a Numero Uno. Some are. The two that always make things especially difficult for me are the Fourth of July and New Year's Eve.

There are always a few party invitations for New Year's Eve, but I've been feeling particularly claustrophobic, so I decided it was worth a drive to Seattle alone to trespass on the noted hospitality my dear friends Luz and Cole always extend to me. They are one of very few couples I can spend time with who make me feel very much less alone. I don't know how that works, but they should probably give lessons sometime.

We had a mellow, cosy time. Cole is a brewer, so he had a batch of cider ready to "pitch" on the stroke of midnight, and he even let me do the honors. Cole has been reading 'Watership Down', so he dubbed it 'Fiver Cider', and we'll get together to sample it in May.

We're developing a bit of a tradition. I spent New Years with Luz and Cole last year, as well, and thanks to Luz's amazing Sriracha Popcorn, started a year's journey of popcorn experimentation. We made two batches over New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, exchanging notes, strategies, flavoring ideas, and enjoying the results. I was also treated to more evidence of Luz's gourmet cooking...Chicken soup and bread for New Years evening dinner, popovers on New  Year's day breakfast, and openface avocado and turkey sandwiches for lunch.



They are renting a big atrium of a house on Capitol Hill. It's full of gorgeous North and East light.



And this is the view from their back porch.


We took a walk on New Years Day, with Cole's tutorial on pipe-smoking to be the "Never tried this" New Year's Day tradition. Funnily enough, we ended up on a 2 hour ramble of a park, a water-tower, and a plant conservatory with nary a digital device between us, not even a watch. Time meant nothing. Now that's a tradition I'd like to continue.

Thursday Lyric: From This One Place, Sara Groves

I was about to give up and that's no lie
cardinal landed outside my window
threw his head back and sang a song
so beautiful it made me cry

took me back to a childhood tree
full of birds and dreams

from this one place I can't see very far
in this one moment I'm square in the dark
these are the things I will trust in my heart
you can see something else
something else

I don't know what's making me so afraid
tiny cloud over my head
heavy and grey with a hint of dread
I don't like to feel this way

take me back to a window seat
with clouds beneath my feet

from this one place I can't see very far
in this one moment I'm square in the dark
these are the things I will trust in my heart
you can see something else
something else

count the ways

Count the ways,

the paths we take to cross squares.

Move as many as you wish.

You, the Bishop

I, a Pawn.

Let me, let me

Count the ways

How do we love?

We move. 

http://metmuseum.org/en/exhibitions/listings/2011/the-game-of-kings-medieval-ivory-chessmen-from-the-isle-of-lewis?exhshow=art&rpp=6&pg=2