praise the wordless speaker I am

Colourless, nameless, free - 

That's what I am.  

When will I see myself as I am?

Put mystery in the middle.

Where is the middle

in the middle I am?

And this silver-tongued stream in me  - 

when will it grow still enough to know

the streaming stillness I am?

The ocean

I am drowned in the ocean I am - 

shoreless, boundless, wonderful.

Don't look for me in this world or that world.

Both worlds are lost in the world I am - 

My soul, you are my true eyes.

What are eyes in the invisible visible I am?

Then what do I call you?

SILENCE.

words can't name what I am.

Settle in the nowhere everywhere I am.

Gold mine I am.

Rumi

BLOG

Just a quick note here to let people know that I am fine.    

The exhibition is beautiful and I will write more about that soon.

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Things keep changing in Blogland, and it's hard to keep up. 

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I'm home now and loving being here after traveling to the exhibition near Ottawa and visiting some of our grown children and young grandchildren in Ottawa and Toronto.  

These days I am cleaning and decluttering my house, gathering my life story from my old journals and stitching in the mornings on my 90 inch square muslin and indigo quilt, grateful for it.   

The island state is a state of remaining within one's own boundaries, undisturbed by any external influence; it resembles a kind of narcissism or even autism.   One satisfies all one's needs on one's own.  Only the self seems real.    Olga Tokarczuk  

like a star in my sky

 What a time we are living through.

At the end of February Ned and I went to Mexico.
I started a new little quilt because I wanted something to do in my swim suit lap.

I wanted to make something small that I could pick up and work on without thinking
but all quilts are acts of mindfulness.

I used red thread and circluar shapes and slowly found that path to my inner self.
It always works.

The weather was often windy or chilly while we were there.
Still beautiful though, to hear the waves.

My little quilt is made of light weight wool and the warmth it gave was perfect.
I couldn't stop working on it.

I continued to stitch in the plane and also in the car as we drove north towards home.

The world is in the middle of a pandemic crises.
My quilt continues to hold me safe.
Doing it helps me.

We're in self isolation now and still I continue and continue.

Continuing to stitch this little quilt.
A red star in my sky, a mothering star. 

 I sit by the window, and the birds watch me stitch.

Here I am.
This is the proof.