Tuesday, September 24, 2019
Crossing the river metaphorically and actually... Sassy
turned eighty-one in the company of two daughters
and two granddaughters.
We crossed our beloved Hudson River to visit the
gardens at Bard College. I told the girls that the
river is the legacy I will leave.
We have driven across the river, walked across it on
the walkway in Poughkeepsie and waded across
it in Warrens-burg, New York.Traveled to the
headwaters in the Adirondacks.
The mansion is beautiful and the mountain view
awesome. The garden qualifies as the magical garden
or the secret garden, your choice.
We shall return again to see the autumn colors. In the spring
we shall wear long dresses and straw hats and carry flower
baskets and be ladies of the manor.
A journey for the imagination, a place to savor in memory.
Posted by Pat at 1:19 PM
Tuesday, July 30, 2019
A color study: olive and lime green.
Sequence: dk to lt. Reverse: lt to dark.
Add a red zinger to define the space.
The reversal of blocks requires weaving with
two shuttles, alternating weft colors.
It beats to a pleasant 1/ 2 rhythm not unlike
reciting nursery rhymes.
Posted by Pat at 3:17 PM
Tuesday, July 2, 2019
Posted by Pat at 8:11 AM
Monday, May 6, 2019
Posted by Pat at 8:00 AM
Sunday, April 28, 2019
Hot Cross Buns! English Easter song
and nursery rhyme: a street cry, a short
lyric called by street sellers in the
open-air markets in the 19th century.
Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One ha' penny, two ha' penny,
Hot cross buns
If you have no daughters
Five them to your sons
One ha' penny,
Two ha' penny,
Hot Cross Buns!
Lovely hot cross buns Ms. Grace.
Posted by Pat at 10:12 AM
Friday, April 26, 2019
And in the frigid hour, when the earth
smells of human dust, and is so sad
I want to knock on every door
And beg forgiveness of I don't know whom,
And bake bits of fresh fresh bread for him(or her)
Here in the oven of my heart.
__ Cesar Vallejo
The fresh bread an offering from
Ms. Grace the beloved baker
of my heart.
May we all share bread and peace.
Posted by Pat at 2:47 PM
Saturday, April 20, 2019
It doesn't have to be
the blue Iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just pay attention then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Posted by Pat at 7:45 AM