Note: this post was originally titled “Apocalypse”
I knew The Tower would be a challenge from the get go …
trying to imagine how to portray total ruin in the midst of the plenty that is our fortunate lot in life.
When the only thing I dreaded about the tower at the Wildflower Center was the vertigo that came with the one and only time I ventured up into it …
But over the three months that I’ve worked on the Texas Tarot, The Tower has taken on new meaning.
And now I wonder how was it that I chose to save this bookcover of all things? Seven years ago …
Let alone the foreboding Red Plane Tree by Steel Stillman …
- 78 Degrees: When the Tower appears it is necessary to remember that it can lead to freedom … clearing away some situation that has built up to intolerable pressure …
- Kitchen Table Tarot: it’s about the universe pulling the rug out from under you … and a huge lack of control … this is going to be hard, but …
- The Creative Tarot: the Tower asks us: What needs to be destroyed in order to be rebuilt?
Coming as it does after the Knight of Wands, this card seems like a call to action, which is ironic given our confinement during the Covid quarantine.
So, as civil structures break down all around us, I choose to look to the light breaking in the distance, to the sure and steady arrival of spring, and always, always, to the sea …
Likewise to this prophetic essay by Surnai Malloy, posted by Grace on Windthread in February, with its imagery of picking up the bricks, one by one, and creating anew.
And lastly, to this fairy tale for the future …
I had hoped to see the almost-full moon set this morning, but found instead a gauze-covered sky.
So on to coffee, breakfast and the newspaper, a NYT xword, email, Facebook, blog reading … every day small things.
And thereby found a poem, nesting in the sidebar, the Kindred Spirits forming themselves into …
The Best Laid Plans
Fire fighting resolution:
don’t think …
jump, default, journey
Christmas trees and taxes
on the outside looking in
earth and air
my kitchen window
Spirit cloth past
a little piece of peace
drawstring bags for the dream
patience is required …
angst, blessings, retreat
From caring hands, threads …
letters to the otherworld
passing, becalmed, changing
On my mind
A pause in judgement
Looking again, the line breaks shift and with them the meaning. I add and delete, delete and add.
Then stop and let it go.
Last month, a thing of beauty sailed into my life …
And as I walked about the International Quilt Festival in Houston this past weekend, over and over again I said the words, “I always considered myself a needleworker. Because of Jude Hill, I now consider myself a quilter, too.”
Because of Jude Hill, I knew to seek out Judy Martin’s Mended World
, which is also to be found in this wonderful tome (which had to come home with me) …
Because of Jude Hill, I met Glennis Dolce whose beautiful vintage Japanese cloth and shibori eclipse will be perfect for some long overdue mending (among other things) …
Because of Jude Hill, I am now part of a wonderful community of like-minded stitchers, Kindred Spirits who have led me to believe in myself. I have learned so very much and will be forever grateful as I continue to play with cloth and stitch, learning more every day.