International Day of Peace

As the International Day of Peace comes to a close in Australia, it is morning in Texas.

As they have for several years now, pieces of peace from Barry Smith and Fiona Dempster arrived last month …

They departed this week, the first going to Patty, a new-to-me Kindred Spirit in Virginia, along with a tiny patch of piece that I stitched …

The second was in response to Mark Smith’s project, so I likewise sent him Barry and Fiona’s peace offerings along with a bit of cloth stitched with this librarian’s language of hope …

the Dewey Decimal call number 303.4 … which stands for “Social Change.”

And a third weathergram headed off to Nancy in California along with this very belated housewarming gift stitched back in May

Peace y’all …

Hope

We went to Johnson City last Friday … not because we planned to, but because both the restaurant and the store in Blanco that we wanted to go to were closed.

Serendipity is a wonderful thing.

So we strolled through some JC galleries we had been to before and walked past one that looked closed … all the art work was sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, waiting to be hung.

But hey, it was open … so we went in … and met the new owner, an artist and author … and a kindred spirit it turns out. We left with this in hand …

44 small print reproductions of 44 collages he made over a six year period … 44 representations in as many languages of the word “hope.”

You can go to Mark Smith’s website and view a video of what he told us in person. But the heart of it is knowing that his project began in 2008 and the number 44 represents Barack Obama, who was elected to the presidency that year.

I was fascinated. And upon getting home, I found myself pulling out collage cards of the non-linguistic “languages” …

from the upper left and going clockwise: binary code, Braille, Morse code, sound waves and semaphore flags. It’s worth enlarging the images for a closer look.

But the collage card that really drew me in was this one in Spanish …

enough so that I felt compelled to respond to it in cloth and stitch …

esperanza … the softest whisper word of hope.

Once upon a time …

In a tiny church in a little town, a gentle man taught two young mothers that their time and their talents counted as much or more than any treasure.

One turned to the flowers in the fields, making her beloved road-sidea into arrangements that delighted the eye. The other turned to linen and white thread, stitching them into sacred cloth.

Years passed and the two young mothers became grandmothers, their three daughters having grown and become mothers themselves.

And the gentle man moved far, far away, but his lessons were not forgotten …