The PANTS

I had a great video chat last night w/one of my oldest and most dear friends. Eric had recently gone through old stuff from growing up, and sent me our fourth grade class picture. I canNOT believe the pants I was wearing (I still am not quite sure how that happened, but suspect that my mother and I forgot that it was picture day. Or, maybe it's just how I will always dress, as seen in Korea). Don't ask what I'm wearing today, but don't be surprised to know that it clashes. I used to care SO MUCH about my wardrobe and now I wish I could wear a uniform every day.

Well, not really. Right now, I'm surrounded by uniforms, under a framed print of a very orange tabby cat, in an army base library. I'm still sorting out lots of things: paperwork, relationships, how long I will keep chewing this gum. In the meantime, I'm grateful for those who keep working and making beautiful things. Jean Betts was generous with her time and kindness, to me, a stranger. Since I can't afford to pay people for their expertise, I sent a mail present instead.

Real surprises

I was shocked to find out last night that a sealed keyboard box actually contained brushes and paint for Chinese painting. Ben is uncovering all sorts of mysteries now that he is truly reorganizing: today is his final day in the Army. So much transition going on that I'm back to washing and hanging underwear daily since I don't know where I will be from day to day.

I engage in highly selective public sharing, even though only a handful of people read these words. I realize now that I've moved so far away from the openness and oversharing that I started with, out of fear. After seeing people's public words being used against them, I'm doing here the same thing I did with the lovely silver rental car I had for the last 2+ weeks: I imagine the worst-case scenario, and paralyze myself. [Though I'm proud to say that I returned the car last night safely after driving through almost five hours of rain and fog, the kind that makes you wish you could pull off the road but you don't because that would probably make it worse.]

I have been living this peregrine life for five years, but lately I have thrown aside all of the things that keep me sane and healthy. This year has been one of the worst. My irrational paranoia is that someone will come after me with a gun. Worse: someone would WANT to do that. I have been in an unhappy place for a while, but I think I'm crawling out of the worst of it. My friends and mentors have been extraordinarily kind and patient with me in the process, and remind me to try the same with myself.

Today, I'm starting over. And the same thing happens tomorrow.

A perfect week

The moon tonight is more stunning only because I know it's getting fuller, and because I've watched it travel across the windows at the ceiling of this comfy visiting artist pad. I splurged tonight on takeout (I never ever do that!) and the evening was nice. After an overly hot and humid couple of days in the front of the week, I was so grateful that day after day, I could turn off more fans during class, the last one going off today.

This class was such a treat. Low key, amiable, hardworking, no balking at the hard work (like clean up), and each took to different techniques. Such a treat to have a completely conflict-free classroom! They even waited for me to pack up at the end and helped carry my things to the rental car, and then insisted on having me follow a car to Somerville so that I wouldn't get lost on my way to a visit to the Harvard Art Museums' off-site location.

Finally! They were kind enough to search and find a set of four huge books that were donated from Korea several months ago, that I've wanted to see since I was in California. I had met the professor who had compiled these samples, and knew I couldn't buy my own set. Luckily, the Koreans always donate to Harvard, so I got to go through over 300 hanji samples. I can't tell you how exhausting that is, but I'm so happy that I was able to do this during this trip. They found the books just in time for me to visit on my last day!

I'm hoping for a restful sleep, and a safe drive home tomorrow morning. I can't wait to finally unpack for (almost) the last time for a bit and see my family!

In lieu of hot air

Handmade paper hot air balloon stuffed with packing peanuts! At the original Carriage House Paper.

Today: dyes! But super low key, b/c that's how I am with dyes and colors. It's fun seeing what other people come up with, and I especially enjoy watching one of my students, who is chronologically young but seems to have grown up doing all sorts of things with her hands that 'kids these days' seem to NOT be doing anymore. That is heartening. More rattly paper, testing my new sugeta, another batch of kozo cooked (but for lace, not paper). I went back to the studio after class to make a little of my own during quiet time, and also found out that I can visit a special collection tomorrow to view a new publication from Korea on hanji! So that will be the final rounding out of a very papery week in Boston.

"paper paper paper"

Said Velma. Today was a paper day. We beat and beat and beat. And I happened to go back to the studio later after class to find all the paper had blown away and shrunk. Not what I expected. BUT so very pleased despite it all, b/c it is beautifully rattly paper, which is not all that easy to do. So I hope they are pleased tomorrow even though it didn't turn out the way I said it would (it never seems to...).

Tonight I went to visit the International Paper Museum in Brookline. I was supposed to meet both Sidney and Elaine, but she wasn't feeling well, so he gave me the full tour of the artwork, garden full of papermaking plants (this is a tiny banana one in the driveway), paper studio, offices, library, and exhibit space.

Tapa! I could have stayed for much longer looking at all the paper prototypes. Then he treated me to a viewing of two videos. I got to pick, and both included footage from Korea. But it was the rest of the footage that was so fascinating. I had read Elaine's book last spring, but this was a great complement because I could finally see it all in action. Some things were so new, yet ancient. It was inspiring to think that paper could motivate an entire family and sustain them for so long. I'm hoping tomorrow I can sustain enough energy to get through a hot day for more papermaking, dyes, and weaving!

Class in a sauna

That's how it feels up on the 3rd floor. I'm disappointed w/this batch of Thai kozo and really wonder--same exact problem from last year in Cleveland. I wonder if we have to switch to lye to make it cook down, since it's not budging. Luckily, there is some magic mitsumata that will save the day tomorrow, I hope. The cooking vent is crazy loud so today was hard, but my students were troopers. Tonight I got to see Katherine and have a good dinner, but I got horribly lost both ways. The way home, which was only supposed to be a few miles, took about an hour. Rain, night, no directional sense in this city. I'll be grateful for the sleep.

Some cooling

The weather has cooled some, which is WELCOME. I swing on this every day, just a little.

I tried to find the gym today and FINALLY found it, and then walked to class through a basement maze. I love theatre set stuff.

Poor crumpled cracked acrylic gloss medium deer. I can relate.

The wall of samples is growing. This was after a day or day and a half. Wendy is watching over us.

I soaked fiber today for tomorrow's papermaking. I dread it, b/c of how physical it is. I am weak these days, and exceedingly out of shape, so this will be a trial. And we're not even doing full-sized anything! Hopefully I will get enough sleep tonight to drive me tomorrow.

On my feet

All day, which hurts. Today was our first full day of class and I pushed hard. But I keep thinking I'll let up once I cover X amount of material. We'll see if that actually happens. I do think I will do a major shuffle, though, based on what I'm sensing. I was amazed that the big pot of paste I cooked up this morning after breakfast was used up completely. The acoustics are challenging, since we're in a space that is WIDE open to the ceiling. Like, up to the top of the building. From the bottom of it. Probably about four stories in a standard apartment, so apparently my voice is lost.

I've met some great people, and already have connected with a cellist who knows a papermaker. And of course I know the papermaker! It's so weird being here, teaching in the art program, alongside an entire chamber music program. I see people with their name tags that indicate their instrument, and I wonder what happened. That used to be me! [Up there is one of 3 dorms alongside each other. It's not the one I sleep in, but I suspect they are identical.]

Sticky

[Now instead of sewing on my text, I can tie it directly to the pages! My last sample book taught me to do that.] It's raining, finally. The whole first half of the day was humidity getting higher and higher. I'm stuck to the seat.

I finished this double book, finally, though it's not quite perfect. The printer literally ate a sheet of hanji with a blue tape leader on it. I have no idea how to take the thing apart (usually, you can see where it's stuck), and it keeps printing other sheets, no problem. I can't believe it just took my paper hostage! After many unsuccessful attempts, too. I figure I can wait until later today to pack, and I'll still be fine to travel tomorrow.

Fried eyes

Less than two days left before I leave for Vermont, and the workload feels heavier each hour. I finally booked the longest car rental of my life last night, and am resigned to all the driving and parking and driving and parking. I've also never traveled with as much stuff before, nor have I had the opportunity to have it in a million different pieces, making it that much harder to carry to and from home to car to rental to VT to rental to Boston to rental to NY and so on. I've started the piles in my head, and a few in real life, but mostly I have been on the computer all day, doing last-minute things. Funny how applications you never considered suddenly rise up days before you leave. I don't feel particularly accomplished after 2.5 months, but I've survived. And I did the laundry! Small feats, nothing to sniff at.

Reconstituted

Wow. That was no fun, the heatwave. My brain melted for days, and it's amazing I survived teaching last week in a non-air-conditioned studio all day. By the end, we all looked like we had been crawling through the desert. It was very windy that day, and some of my samples blew away, never to be found again.

I've been making more bark thread to replace the last batch. All I could manage in the heat was laying in an outdoor recliner, indoors (the sofa was too hot to sit on), reading Barry Lopez. I also got clobbered in two games of Scrabble, but that's because I'm terrible at games. I have less than a week before I teach for two weeks in a row, so I'm doing prep every day and finding that logistics are harder than I had expected. I may have to do a long round-trip car rental rather than three one-way rentals. I'd rather pick bark.

Slow and sunny

I'll never forget when Melissa told me in our first meeting years ago that people on a committee hesitated when seeing my work because it was so small. This week, I was seeking comfort in people's voices that I trusted because I trusted their words: Barry Lopez, Terry Tempest Williams, Gretel Ehrlich. The last said that dog sledding was wonderful because dog speed (4 mph) is similar to human speed (3 mph), so you are going fast enough to feel you are getting somewhere, yet slow enough to take in what you are passing. While I sewed up this tiny book, I thought of that, and what my 7th grade health teacher said to me: "You could be a surgeon, with those fingers," after telling us that doctors who operated on infants' hearts had to practice with their fingers inside of matchboxes.

Today was an early start, doctor's appointment, visit to the library (how I LOVE libraries, and this one has a lot of green inside, which has been a favorite color for a few years), an outdoor lunch, and other meanderings. I finished reading a basketball book and napped in between. It's Friday, for sure.

Two years ago, I bought this on Jeju Island at a contemporary art museum gift shop, alongside a master persimmon dyer who spotted it first. Velma was drawn to it, too. Still no idea exactly what it is, but it is perfect. I need to fill a few books, and I could only hope for them to be even a sliver of how perfect this wee bit of silk and stitching is. Meanwhile, I am scheming for the three workshops left to teach this summer: how best to share magic? I'm still confounded to find myself in this place, where I get to decide how class unfolds. Trying to hold Lopez's word while I plan: reverence.

I am a sample book making addict