So . . . the full moon last night was huge and spectacular in the January twilight. I have always posted at least on the new and full moons, and I felt bad that I didn't write a post here before the moon reached its peak. Every post I wanted to write this month was off-topic, I guess. I wanted to write about my horror at the political gridlock and vitriol in this country (somewhat mollified by Obama's good speech last week). I wanted to write about music, my refuge and emotional thermometer and escape route. I wanted to write about various frustrations and sorrows in my life. I wanted to write about dreams and hopes that are probably far too personal for the blogosphere. I wanted to write about art in ways that always seemed a little elusive; I couldn't quite translate my fragmented thoughts into a coherent narrative in the slices of time that were available.
I wonder if I need to start a new blog with a broader theme, or a narrower one.
I also spent a fair amount of time on launching the Slow Cloth page on Facebook, which has inspired a lot of people; we have 600 members from all over the world. Glennis, Jude, and Michelle have all worked really hard on it and are fantastic people to be working with. One thing that's surprised me is that, in various blogs commenting on the group, slow cloth is being interpreted as hand-stitching, and of course, in a far too literal way: "it's taking a long time, so it must be a slow cloth." I can't control what people take away from what I or others have written about slow cloth, but at least in my work, it's always been intended as a philosophy or set of principles for working with textiles and fabric in any way, large or small, and not at all limited to hand-stitching -- in fact, not limiting at all.
Maybe that's too much to ask of it? Anyway, a few speaking possibilities are coming up for events, so that's a good thing, and a lot of people are encouraging me to write the book I've imagined for a long time. I never made a single dime on my organic foods book, despite having McGraw-Hill as a publisher, so I'm a little ambivalent about the book process -- it has to be the right publisher and the right contract.
In addition to not writing here, I haven't done any stitching, though I have been working on a beautiful mandala that I began during a day of painting with Lama Pema Tenzin at my dance teacher's house. I'll be working on that over the weekend, along with a gigantic pile of editing work that I brought home from the day job. Here is the beginning of the mandala:
And here are some full moon song lyrics:
something caught my eye, words on a shrine
full moon aglow, I could read them:
The Delta moon is a lantern over you
Like a porch light hung in forever
It will be left on
Because we're always going home
And we'll meet up again on a great Gulf wind
We'll meet up again
On a great Gulf wind.
(sonny landreth, Great Gulf Wind)