August in the new world

  1. 01. August in the new world

    It’s been a while. how have you been?   linentankblog Me? My hair is long. My feelings longer. I’ve been in the world of ailing grandparents. I have too many gardens sprinkled all over the map and not enough other stuff like gas, predictability, time. If I drive to one of the McGregor patches for some hours of weeding will you meet me in the ramshackle garden? We’ll have iced tea or beer or gin and I’ll sweat & get eaten alive by mosquitoes. You can wear a hat full of mosquito netting covering you from head to toe and you can tell me about all the ways life is trying for you or winning for you -or maybe about your recent struggle with your sister, just anything as long as you don’t ask me to explain myself. purplebean I’m sewing finally. It’s good. It’s right. How many times does an artist get to say they are satisfied. My friend D says that’s winning everything. She’s right.

    Shop update:

    Here with most my stuff in boxes things get clear. Clothes need to: breathe enough and work enough for summer or warm enough and cover enough for winter. Everything must stand up to the test of time. Everything must launder. Everything must wax and wane with 10 pounds here 5 less there. I’m hard on clothes and hard on shoes and hard on hearts too.

    peasantblouseblog I have a lover that says I ramble on and drop the mic. Well I do. And right after I upload this photo of a mica cairn I’m out. xx salemwrapblog fleursblog

  2. 02. A bad haiku

    Chipped Hello Kitty fingernail polish

    painted on by a godbaby

    who’s turned into a godchild

    Aching knee from

    muddy mountainside hikes

    and being Thirty-Plus

    Star Lillies

    wafting their intoxicating perfume

    welcome back

    I need more Titanium White

    Twenty Five degrees

    feeling like 50

    And remembering Forty degrees

    feeling like 20

    I turned into foreigner

    driving through snow


    black Ice

    without buying a carton of milk

    Sapphires glowing differently

    Looking into the lined face of a child

    who’s child?

    Looking into the lined face of a future

    my future?

    Every loss of a word

    giving me a new pause

    Low hum of anxiety

    stealing sleep

    stealing comfort

    stealing beauty

    And so I repeat




    Wherever you are

    Wherever is enough

    Always leaving

    always coming


    When did I turn into a gypsy?




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