New Ways from the old

My masters thesis at CSU was called New Ways (there was more about service delivery for people with developmental disabilities, but I wanted to focus on new ways of seeing the world in general). This week I have found abundance all around me and have been nudged from all directions to see the world in new ways.

Sunday there was Polly Barton's talk for the Textile Arts Alliance of Santa Fe about her amazing work in silk tapestry and ikat. I have been unable to see her show at the William Siegal gallery yet as it was closed Sunday, but from her digital images, I enjoyed the freedom and explosion of color that her pieces are full of.

Yesterday I woke up worrying more about finding an occupational therapy job and suddenly thought to call my old boss Cheryl. Amazingly, not only was there a job opening at the end of that phone call, but an hour later I got a phone call about another job I had been hoping for. And I got to connect with an old friend in the process.

And then yesterday afternoon I went exploring near my house and found more petroglyphs. I am living in the middle of the most wonderful archeological site and I can't help feeling the presence of the people who used this place next to the Rio Grande for thousands of years. I can't tell you exactly where it is because I now feel like I must join my landlady in being a steward for this amazing rock art. The unexpected joy of ending up not only in a beautiful house with wonderful views, but of a place surrounded by historic art is amazing.

And there is a new piece on the loom. Actually it is another panel for a piece I had completed a few months ago and was not happy with. The second panel should complete the piece for me and bring it together as one entity. Sometimes it takes some time to see what has to happen in a life or in a piece of art. I am learning little by little that if I find some space and silence and wait, the new ways of being will make themselves known. And sometimes it is a really wild ride!

A new place to live...

Well, the news officially is that I have moved. I know many of you would add a word to that sentence--AGAIN. I know that some of my friends and relatives have instituted a policy of keeping my address on post-it notes in their address books because I've moved quite a lot in the last 10 years. Since I have moved into another rental, I'd say continuing this policy is probably wise. I moved the day before Thanksgiving. I can tell you that I was so grateful for the help of Lynn, my sister Laura and her husband Luke, Ruth Ann and Jim, and Heather and Sue. You all were so great. You were even gracious about moving my Yamaha upright piano which I dearly love out of a remote cabin into a pickup and then into a moving truck and then into a new house. Bless you for your muscles, your effort, and your good cheer. I hope that I can stay in this house for a long time. In fact, I may have to convince the landlord to sell it to me because I really don't feel like moving ever again. The new place is near Espanola, NM which is not all that far from where I used to live. The house is straw bale (a dream come true for me) with big windows and fabulous views. I am blessed to have found it. Doesn't this look like a good place for weaving tapestry? I welcome social and studio visits!

My newest piece

Okay, here is a shot of my newest piece fresh from the loom. I'm not sure what the title is yet, but it might be "Contemplative Garden." I'm working on a set of pieces more or less linked to garden ideas--but not the sort of garden where you grow tomatos. The sort of garden that is all overgrown and mysterious where you might find your greatest love, the most beautiful flower, time to watch a bird in a birdbath hidden behind a tree, or time to walk a labryinth.

I've also realized something critical this week--that I have to get a new digital camera if I have any intention of photographing my work well. My friend Julie came over to photograph me for some projects of her own and caught this piece coming off the loom. Holy cow if her photos weren't a million times better than mine. Okay, I know that a lot of that could be user error, but I have been running a camera most of my life and think with better equipment I could get some pretty good shots of my work--at least good enough until I get into the Smithsonian.

I've realized some other critical things lately, but those are going to have to wait for a later post.

Abundance

I currently live on the south side of Mt. Blanca right under Little Bear Peak (I live with a white dog named Little Bear also which is nice). The land is completely covered with pinon and juniper trees. Almost every single one of those pinon trees is completely laden with pinon nuts. Both me and the 4 dogs are obsessed with "picking pinon" which means crab crawling around under pine trees putting the nuts in the bag. There is some swearing involved when hands come in contact with either globs of pine sap (which doesn't come off no matter what and renders anything it touches sticky for a long time) or cactus. But the bags of nuts are worth it. Once roasted they're especially tasty.

I'm trying to remember how much abundance is in my life lately. When work is hard or things just don't seem to be rolling smoothly it can be tough, but the pinon harvest--that is definitely abundance. There must be unmeasurable tons of pinon on that hillside. I don't think I could possibly even harvest the amount just on my 5 acres of land which is only partially treed. Amazing.

Taos Wool Festival

I spent last weekend and part of last week in New Mexico. It was the Taos Wool Festival Saturday and Sunday and I greatly enjoyed seeing all the great yarn, animals, and talking to the people who love fiber. I managed to get out of there Sunday having only bought two skeins of yarn--a silk/wool blend that should be lovely for something knitted. There were many booths, a little weaving, and all kinds of animals including alpaca and lots of angora bunnies. There were people spinning and knitting all over the place. And the festival was busy even though it was cold and overcast for New Mexico in October.

I also visited my friend Emily and her family in Dixon, NM. Her husband is a farmer and his specialty is chili. He was working on hanging these ristras all across the front of their house.

I spent Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday taking a tapestry weaving class from James Koehler in Taos. James is always ready to challenge me and this class was no exception. I enjoyed learning some new gradation and hatching techniques as well as being part of a group of tapestry weavers for a few days. It was a quick class, but I did manage to start a small tapestry. While I was there I stayed at the Columbine Inn in the Taos Ski Valley. I highly recommend the place! It was quiet (off season) and beautiful. I was able to hike right from the hotel. I did have to scrape ice off my car in the mornings and there was snow on Wheeler peak. The colors are changing fast and winter is on her way.

Fall has come

I live very close to Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve. Last weekend I climbed to Mosca Pass in the park (a great hike along a stream which is not too strenuous--although people have complained that when I label a hike as "easy" that doesn't mean they won't need to be carried out on a stretcher. All I can say is, get your Colorado Search and Rescue CORSAR card before hiking with me). It was beautiful, but I was completely shocked to find the aspens well on their way to full yellow. I don't know how I let this sneak up on me. It happens every year around this time. I like to keep my level of denial high in the fall. I desperately cling to hiking season and hate to admit that I might have to abandon my beloved mountains until as late as June unless I'm willing to take up backcountry skiing... which I'm not because I'm a total klutz and afraid of smacking into a tree at 60 mph.
So, the winter is approaching. I'm hoping for one more backpacking trip into the Sangres the end of October... but the thought of camping under a tarp covered with snow is a little daunting. BUT winter is a good time for weaving and my studio space is sunny and warm in the winter. So bring on the snow (and if you don't know, Alamosa is often the coldest place in the nation--routinely hitting -30 degrees F especially in January)... maybe I'll get some weaving done.
This little guy was hanging on for dear life. Sort of how I feel about letting go of summer.

Eppie Archuleta

Today was my last day working at the hospital in Alamosa. It was a good job most days, but being a medically based therapist is really no longer for me. I'm glad to be finished and have some more time for weaving--and also to only have to focus on one job (at the schools) besides my REAL job of being an artist and making fabulous tapestries.
My co-worker Julie didn't know that it was my last day today. But she left me a gift which was far more appropriate than she could have guessed. She is from La Jara which is also the home of famous Rio Grande tapestry weaver Eppie Archuleta. (Actually I think Eppie might live in Capulin, but close enough.) Eppie is one of the even more famous Agueda Martinez's children. Agueda died in 2002 (at the age of 102 I believe) after leaving a legacy in both weaving and famous weaving children. Julie was at a Hispanic Heritage Festival in La Jara recently and met Eppie... and she bought me a little sample of Eppie's weaving (a bookmark). Somehow I felt that it was a good sign for me... leaving the hospital and going forward with Eppie's work in my pocket. They say to follow your bliss, and really I can't think of any other way to find happiness. So maybe with Eppie's talisman on my studio wall and one less job to worry about, I can create some happiness of my own.