'our mothers are why we are here'*
Sew sew so….finally I get round to writing a post, I promised myself I would as soon as I had finished stitching most of the horizontal rows of The Allotment. It’s held firmly together now and I need not fear the coming-undone of the two layers, nor are there any worries about the smoothness of the layers and I know I can now start kantha-stitching wherever I feel like. I have been reading blogposts elsewhere, however have rarely commented as my mind is preoccupied by the care-taking of our parents, even if it is mostly long-distance, it is almost all consuming. I have started many posts whilst walking, witty and profound thoughts sprang to mind of course, insightful and (too) clever ideas came and went as I wandered with Django. All elude me as I start to write, so I’ll pass on those and share what I can.
The quote in the post-title comes from Saeed Jones’ memoir How we fight for our lives. A phrase that has haunted me since I finished reading it a couple of weeks ago, as it reverberates on many levels in my life these days. Amongst many things I thought and felt whilst reading, was the sensation I was looking into a mirror. I felt akin to the author, despite being neither black nor gay, nor a man for that matter: how I too, in my early twenties, felt lonelier than I have ever felt before or since; my sense of self-worth was at an all time low, in my periods of self-loathing I would traipse along with unsuitable men and end up in a stranger’s bed, sometimes there was sex, often not; a lot of talking, drinking and smoking was involved and an urge to feel a body next to mine, a way to connect. Fortunately it never became truly dangerous, my basic instinct for ‘safe’ men seemed to have always been turned on. At the time I did not realise how unhappy or desperate I was.
Probably there is more to say here, I just don’t know how.
Creatively I could not manage more than the endless stitching back-and-forth on The Allotment these past few weeks. I am very happy with the result so far and look forward to sewing more vertical rows, perhaps adding more coloured threads as I’m running out of the lighter tones….. We are experiencing a heat-wave and I cannot be bothered to go shopping in town, not even for embroidery thread!
The two images above and below are the actual bird
Yesterday, all of a sudden ‘thwump!’ a bird hit my open studio door, alas a young blackbird has hit the glass pane and is lying on the paving, heaving heavily as he breathes his last breath, with a twisted neck, broken I suspect. He just happened to hold a downy feather in his beak.I bring it in and make several ink wash drawings: