Remember Kim

     I couldn't remember her last name this morning, but thanks to the internet and to Blogger, I found Kimberly Davis again.  Her voice, her kindness, her creative spirit are all alive and well on the internet, these few years after she died unexpectedly, and far too young, in the midst of a remarkable life. For a sense of her spirit, see this post on "Ordinary Superpower" on her blog:  http://kimatsyao.blogspot.com/2010/07/
     Kim was one of my inspirations in fiber arts.  She was a teacher, a leader, an entrepreneur, a guiding light.  She was co-founder and co-owner (with Cynthia Spencer) of a shop called Stitch Your Art Out in the tiny town of Pine Grove Mills, PA.  Women were drawn to her and the shop for fabric and sorority. Kim led us in many "Block of the Month" adventures and other "Creativity" expeditions.
     I signed up for one advanced class, and at the first session I felt that I was too much of a novice to participate with so many expert quilters.  Kim calmed me and assured me that we would achieve this together, one step at a time, and we did.
     Still, there are many fabrics in my collection that remind me of the project with Kim that occasioned their purchase.  She was fearless in her own art and in guiding the rest of us to create from our own visions.
     After she was suddenly gone from our lives, I realized that she was still with me in so many ways. A poem by e.e. cummings seemed to express this, so I stitched it into a creative project.  Here is the poem and here is the piece I call "Remember Kim."

in time of daffodils(who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why,remember how in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so(forgetting seem) in time of roses(who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if,remember yes in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek(forgetting find) and in a mystery to be (when time from time shall set us free) forgetting me,remember me

Semiosis of Winter Beach (Day 1-5)

Semiosis of Winter Beach:
Twenty Days in Ocean State of Mind
(excerpt)

Day 1
Flat grey/green stone about twice the size of my thumb pad.
Ordinary wear and tear on the “back,” but
Deep striations in geometric/hieroglyphic pattern
On the “front.”

Not a Rosetta Stone, no.
Treasure map? Possibly.
“Message in a bottle”? Hmmn.
Story of long imprisonment
and escape? Maybe.

Palm-like lifelines, divergences, canyons:
strong inclination toward one direction, but
explorations into new territories as well.

And here is the storyline of a fresh
Spring rising in a desert
And finding its way to
The sea of open air.

And deep indentations where this vessel
Of meaning was once held
Tight by a creature
With opposing thumb and palm,
Or huge dull teeth.
Metaphorically, of course.

All in all, it is a language of stress
And mute fracture,
Of time-traveling through
Dimensions of place
And emotion,
Feigning stillness,
Holding shape,
Beckoning sensation,
Fingerprint to fingerprint.


Day 2
I was scouting winter beach for the perfect white egg today. I saw it uncovered by the tide on Day 1. In my fancy, the oval bird bodies mounted on one leg with narrow end toward the wind were hatched one by one from this perfect white egg.
But it’s gone. Or hidden from me today. Anyway, it’s not a bird’s egg I seek, is it? It’s the egg of my own euphoria, of my purpose. Seeking that egg here on winter beach, but also, most defiantly, in cityscapes, and rarely, among the cumulous, cirrus, stratus clouds and, oh, yes! the stars!

Here on winter beach today are small, speckled, dimpled stones (eggs) with imperfect bodies circling and potent or potential. Flat on one side for broadcast news, like “wish!” or “awesome!” or “come to me!”

Here are large, palm-flattened, smooth, dark, slate stones. Egg-shaped, but somehow not eggs. These are weapons. Skull-stones, war-stones, hate-stones. Or in the hands of some, stones to make grain into flour into bread into community, into love.

One stone gave birth to me and is still calling me. Perhaps it is not smooth and shaped like the egg I am seeking? Am I the rough-edged chunk, broken from a daring edifice? Or the pearly chip of shell of short local life? No matter whatever. I am one with winter beach, the tides, winds, waves, and sand.


Day 3
There are ripples, waves, surges, waves of waves, and flights of birds.


Day 4
The most amazing sight:
At the back edge of the curling wave
Visible rising maze of mist.
And in the droplets,
A miraculous rainbow dashing
Along the edge of the tumult
Rolling colors out along the verge in
Littoral delight.


Day 5
Today winter beach is
About the fold,
The crease in the deep angle where sea
Meets sand.
Both surfaces tilt up from the fold.
I am on the solid facing toward
The mysterious slant of
Water into atmosphere,
Wondering what holds it
Up and holds me down,
With eyes that follow the
Sharp horizon up
And over senses;
and far into imagination.

Almost One Year

I see that I haven't posted on my blog in almost a year! Where did that time go? My role as "Asset Manager" kicked in big time over the past 18 months! Every phone call, document, negotiation, search, application, and detail of all the transitions below was processed through my mind and creative energy. Roles as "Artist" and "Author" were secondary during most of this time.

We sold our house in State College, PA after twenty years of Happy Valley and Penn State University. Our belongings went to three locations : 31 Tanglewood Trail, CubeSmart in Wakefield, RI, and another storage unit in State College. We intended to spend the summer in RI, possibly planning to renovate the cottage and then return to a rental in PA for fall semester. Vincent would be on research leave for Jan-June, so we would be back in RI then. Retirement plans were fuzzy, not near, not far, but certainly eventual.

In July, shortly after my last blog post, our children and grandchildren arrived for "Beach Week #19." On the very first day, the kids told us that they recommend we consider moving to a condo versus doing a major renovation to upgrade Tanglewood as a permanent residence. Our daughter-in-law got on Zillow and found an open house for the very next day. Along with daughter and daughter-in-law, I went to see the condo on Gibson Avenue in Narragansett. Love at first sight! Four blocks to the ocean! Large rooms, lots of light, secluded grounds, historic buildings.

Vincent and I made an appointment with our realtor to return and see all of the condo units available, and long-story-short, we put a bid on a for-sale-by-owner condo for a good price, but needing a lot of renovation. Paperwork . . . Paperwork . . . Paperwork. And simultaneously having touch up work completed on the Tanglewood house to prepare it for sale: paint exterior, fence, etc. etc. Closing was set for September. We returned to State College to move into a shared rental with a friend, and soon I traveled back to RI for the closing and to meet with contractor for renovation planning.

Penn State threw a new angle into the mix! They offered a "Voluntary Retirement Program" with incentives for eligible faculty to retire at the end of the academic year. Vincent qualified and after consultation decided to accept the offer. So, our fall was spent with more paperwork along with traveling back and forth from State College to RI to supervise the renovation.

By the end of December, we had moved everything from State College to Tanglewood Trail, including ourselves. We knew that we would be back to PA several times in spring, summer, and fall, so it felt final, but not finished, especially with friends.

By late January we moved into the condo and began to stage the Tanglewood house for sale. Meanwhile, we are both exploring our interests in Narragansett, at URI, and in surrounding communities. I arranged for some of my smaller art pieces to be displayed for sale by joining the Fayerweather Craft Guild. Membership includes working at the shop one day a month during the months of May through December. I will also facilitate a workshop for this group in August. My first "work" day in the shop is next week. My larger art pieces will be displayed at a coffee shop, Java Madness, from late September into October.

Vincent had three (at least) academic meetings in Jan, Feb, March and I went along on all of them. We were in Brooklyn once and then in Cambridge twice. Amtrak and MBTA were very convenient for our travel. I walked A LOT on the beach this winter, loving every moment and writing almost every day. That will be my very next post.

In April we returned to State College for a week of meetings, friends, more moving, etc. I added a few days visiting family at the end of the trip. The closing on the Tanglewood house took place while we were in PA. Paperwork . . . paperwork . . . paperwork. Oh, and that reminds me, we applied for all the Social Security, Medicare, PSU health supplement, etc. etc. Paperwork . . . paperwork . . . paperwork! AND of course, I prepared all of the data for our tax return.

And that brings us to May. Almost to the end of May. I've been sewing a lot and will have photos of new work to post very soon! You'll see "Mother Has a Wild Heart" and "Frame of Mind" and "Longevity Banner" soon. I am very happy with these pieces and hope to escalate my visibility with some new gallery opportunities as well.

I've been reading some of my own writing lately and starting to make plans to complete some things and to send other things out for rejection letters. Or whatever comes back! Last summer I did send out a poetry manuscript and received a comment including the words "lush and sensuous" along with the rejection.

Writing this account is significant. It is turning the page, or closing the entire book, of "asset management" work of the past 18 months. I wake up now and walk two steps to my sewing table. I feel writing and reading times and places are abundant. New opportunities are opening and I can begin the day in my imagination mode rather than my efficiency mode. I will close with a quote from Wallace Stevens that is part of the "Frame of Mind" piece that I am finishing today:
"She sang beyond the genius of the sea."