bittersweet thoughts on the Ides of March

“Bittersweet” (or douce-amère, sweetbitter in French) sums up the memories that are seeping into thought this morning. Ambivalent and a little sad, a little happy.

What triggered it was the following email: “I last wrote to you on 3/10/20, two years ago, to cancel the writing workshop, Write YOUR Story.” The rest of the letter explains hopes for recommencing the workshop but still…

Two years have disappeared, two years of isolation, anxiety, and collective worry. Two years is a lot when you are only 8 years old. It’s been two years while those kids whose story, which never even got a title and remains unfinished, have been growing up. [BTW: The spring 2020 group story was a reverse fairy tale, modeled on “Hans in Luck,” by the Brothers Grimm. Our protagonist: a 12-year-old girl who loves gardening. In keeping with the original genre, our heroine is given, and loses, money and treasures one after another. At the ending, she’d be left with nothing, or at least no material profit. I was so curious to know how they’d spin that, the nothingness.]

It is bittersweet, the memory of covid-19 and all who have died, who were sick, who remain devastated by memory or physical disability, that plague. Equally fragile are those who got better but who remain terrified by the memory of having a plague.

Yet look at the sweet hopefulness in the children’s faces seen here. If ever we needed a reason to keep going, it’s in these faces.

Autum C., 2015

Italy M., 2015

Sandra S., 2015

Look at those adorable girls who joined the class in 2015, seen above. They are teenagers now, adults. Yet I bet they’ll remember the warm feeling of fun we all shared, how fun it was to write and illustrate Nabiki and Ruby: An Outer Space Fairy Tale.

That creative energy has to be good for the planet!

May your activities this week, as we head into the notorious IDES OF MARCH, be creative and good for the planet too. Despite the horrors that have transpired on March 15 in years past, history does not need to repeat itself. We can do better. We must!

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raindrops are falling on my head (more thoughts on form and the formless)

A true Seattlelite, I love everything (well, almost) about rain. The sound, the smell, the sensation of moisture on your skin. The fog, the moss, the infinity of greens. (Wet feet, not so much.) Embrace it! It will soon change. It may rain less for a while, for instance, before a new cloud bursts. The sun may even poke through!

“People believe themselves to be dependent on what happens for their happiness, that is to say, dependent on form. They don’t realize that what happens is the most unstable thing in the universe. It changes constantly.

The joy of Being, which is truly the only true happiness, cannot come to you through any form, possession, achievement, person, or event–through anything that happens. The joy cannot come to you–ever. It emanates from the formless dimension within you, from consciousness itself and this is one with who you are.”

–Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth, p. 213-214.

The photos below relay my voyage yesterday, down the hill to the dock at Seacrest Park, then across Elliott Bay to the waterfront. From there I walked up through Pioneer Square and Chinatown to the Seattle Kung Fu Club for class. (It was amazing, as always. T’ai chi is sublime!) The last photo, of the Port of Seattle cranes and harbor, was taken later in the day on the return journey–see how much “sunnier” it got, between 10am and 1:30pm?!

See the water taxi between the trees?

Water taxi coming our way

King County Water Taxi at Seacrest Park dock

Happy Sunday to all!

(p.s. It’s ok to be happy, even in the rain.)

join us June 10, creative fun guaranteed! (trust me)

(In memory of a dear friend’s passing and time’s fleeting path. Sorry to see you leave so soon, Matt VE…)

Hello fine people,

Since we’ve all survived thus far, I’d like to invite you to join me in person on June 10, from 5-8 pm, at the “Dreaming in Quilts” show currently on display at West Seattle Grounds coffee shop, in Seattle. It is the June ArtWalk evening; you could make this one stop on a lovely evening promenade around scenic West Seattle. If you come, I promise to welcome you with a smile, answer any questions that may arise about my creations, and enjoy watching people play “Make a Quilt.” At 8pm, Joanie (the wonderful manager of this event) will draw someone’s paper out of the box, and announce who won the “WIN YOUR QUILT!” drawing, for a free quilt of their own design!

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There are eight quilts on display: three “Respect” quilts in honor of #BLM and inspired by fascinating Black people I know; one each of the Frankenstein and Alice in Wonderland quilts, two one-of-a-kind Japanese Kimono Silk quilts*, and a subdued, blue/grey/green watery-looking quilt inspired by Seattle called “Western Pacific.”

They are perfectly imperfect, each in its own way (being a firm believer in Haruki Murakami’s adage, “a certain type of perfection can only be realized through the limitless accumulation of the imperfect”).

*The Japanese Kimono Silk quilts were made with tiny bits of silk from a long-lost catalogue for kimono makers, placed in a pretty rice cake tin that was found at Hosekibako, a Japanese resale shop. I miss browsing around that elegant store and finding such treasures, but I am happy to see they now sell online!

The Make a Quilt game is free, simple, and accessible to all, the youngest and oldest among us too (no pins, needles, or scissors involved). Participants will find a long table marked with blue tape outlining a 5×3 grid and a pile of 10” sewn quilt squares in various textures and colors and patterns. People will choose 15 squares, lay them out in their own designs, straighten ’em up, take a photo; voilà an e-quilt! With that, they can now join the drawing for a real quilt on the same design: “WIN YOUR QUILT!” (The winner will receive the very quilt they’ve designed, in 6-8 weeks.)

A creative, fun time guaranteed. Particularly recommended for people re-entering the world after a long moment of isolation and possible sadness, whose eyes look downwards and moments of joy seem few. In other words, all of us. Kids too.

If coming to West Seattle is too much of a challenge, not to worry. HGBG quilts are currently on sale via the Honey Girl Books & Gifts etsy site at a fabulous 50% discount (use code LUVWSEA) until June 30, 2021. And if you’d like to host a future “Dreaming in Quilts” show in your neighborhood, why not write to me? (use the contact page on this blog). Who knows what we might do, to spread loving kindness around this sad old world.

Thank you, for all that you do to support the Black Lives Matter movement, appreciation of Asian-Americans, and the rich contributions all make to American culture. Let us usher in trust as the post-pandemic concept of choice, right now, right where we live.

day 14: face mask mania begins

After another invigorating solitary walk this morning, I’ve been deeply focused on mastering the art of sewing cotton face masks.  The time flew by!  Pictured are my first four adult size, and one petite. I’m making them out of nice cotton, so they will last many washings. After all, they may become a semi-permanent part of our wardrobes in the days ahead…

Having a concrete way to help out during this crisis makes all the difference.  I’m offering them on a complimentary basis to medical personnel, and $5.00 each for other folks. Cash on delivery: pick them up at my home studio in West Seattle (with sufficient social distancing, of course). Thanks again to Farhad Manjoo and the New York Times for publishing the pattern and directions–that is a page I will treasure forever.

Wishing you a day of purpose–it’s the best route to happiness!

six months later…

arriving in WSEA July 2, 2018

Alki Beach walk, January 4, 2019

… the move from South Bend, Indiana to Seattle, Washington is still a dream come true.  Living in West Seattle feels like an American dream of living in Scandinavia, Sweden or Denmark maybe. There are the adorable boutiques and minimalist art galleries decorated with rough wood and silver dock-rigging. The long dark nights, the tanker ships and busy harbor, and the no-nonsense neon-wearing bike-riding commuters. It has organic everything, it’s cozy, rainy,  and anti-gun.

And it has seals and sea lions, sea gulls and herons. Fog, sprinkles, and torrents. Tug boats leading container ships painted bright blue, yellow and black, from Hamburg to Hong Kong. And the roiling, inky-black mother sea lies underneath it all, holds it up, makes it possible.

Tonight while Honey Girl and I were walking on the bulkhead at Alki Beach, something cool happened!

It was a quiet and very dark evening under a New Moon, few people were around. The tide must have been going out fast; from the beach you could hear a clattering noise, as the shiny grey rocks rolled down into the cold water only to roll back up again when the next wave came in. Suddenly my dog and I both looked to our left, and there in the middle of a small lagoon, rings were forming around a seal bobbing nearby. It snuffed and sputtered air, bobbing along and looking at us, three times before disappearing under the waves. Maybe it was my white parka; he may have been wondering what that white light was, moving along the horizon. Or maybe it was Honey Girl–she was definitely aware of the seal–were they communicating with each other?  It seemed simpatico…., at any rate she looked happy, if a bit excited.

With all I’ve been reading about chi or spirit lately and the constant practice of T’ai chi, I’ve come to believe that energy or chi exists. It may manifest as a non-verbal entity that is impossible to explain, but it is quite real. It warms up your hands and calms down your thoughts. It can be felt and shared, too, among humans and between species. That seal’s presence tonight was peaceful and curious; it was a serene feeling to know she was unafraid of us, and that we could exist together silently in the dark before parting ways. I felt happy for the water quality of Elliott Bay too; the abundance of life in these waters proves it’s still alive, pure enough if not perfect… like all of us.

Lately I’ve been thinking about seals a lot because of reading stories of Selkies–seal-women who can become human, but only for a while–and other magical women in Sharon Blackie’s weird and wonderful book, If Women Rose Rooted: The Journey to Authenticity and Belonging.  Its title is odd, but the book is deeply worth reading if you seek to make sense out of being a woman in our world today.

I’ll leave you with a cheerful quote from that book:

No star is ever lost

we once have seen

We always may be

what we might have been.  (p. 89)

 

These are my New Year’s resolutions: to embrace life with no regrets and to forgive those who have done me wrong. To make ways to see the people I love all over the world, and make new friends here in Seattle.  To remember the fleeting nature of our time here on earth, and cherish the memory of the dead.

Six months never flew by so fast!

 

 

Road trip day five and beyond: in our new home at last

Hi everybody,

Sorry to leave you up in the air like that, on the road trip! The fifth day began in Moses Lake–a vast and wind-swept desert setting. It was fun to see the sign for George, WA–I had not thought of that town since my days at WSU–and like every other tourist I could not resist:

 

 

As we spiraled down into the Columbia Gorge, signs finally started listing Seattle–what a thrill to the traveling trio, five days away from South Bend!

Snoqualmie Pass is beautifully mysterious, with its sudden waterfalls and misty views:

 

I drove for the last leg, with tears of joy as I realized that our dream had come true: we are home at last!  Honey Girl likes it here too.

 

arriving in WSEA July 2, 2018

That enormous moving truck made its way down our tiny street (a dead end) the very next morning. It was truly an engineering miracle to see him get that rig into the street, and to back it up all the way out. Hats off to Daniel, the North American Van Lines driver, who navigated the whole move like a true pro and is a nice guy too.

I made a bee-line to the Seattle Kung Fu Club as soon as I could and I’m grateful to now be among the T’ai chi students of Grandmaster John S.S. Leong and his staff. (So far, I’ve been relegated to doing long arduous stretches for the duration of the 1 1/2 hour classes, but I look forward to learning the Wu Form in due course). It is wonderful to look into the eyes of people at the Seattle Kung Fu Club–they all look so vital, healthy, and alert.

To go there, I walk down a dizzying street from our house on the top of a hill to Seacrest Park at sea level and take the water taxi 15 minutes to Pier 52 in downtown Seattle. Then I walk through Pioneer Square and beyond the eclectic mix of upscale art galleries and fancy restaurants alongside homeless missions and the people who gather nearby, to a tiny building in old Chinatown. It is a minuscule second-floor studio with an enigmatic grandmaster who inspires reverence among all of us sweaty people–just perfect. What a feast of sensations!  the dazzling water and lively boat traffic to see, the smell of diesel, the sound of the waves and the rumbling engine, then the strangely relaxing and familial smell of sweat and body warmth… it is just what all the “mindfulness” books suggest leads to wellbeing.  Check out the pics of the commute below. That long grey ship seems to be sending us a message to persevere in the inner arts and to stay strong with exercise… The pagoda-like entrance to King Street and the dragon mural at Hing Hay park delight the eyes and bring a smile to the spirit, every time:

 

 

I’m in heaven. With both brothers (and fabulous sisters-in-law) nearby, nieces, nephews, and one out of two sons close to home, family is finally near at hand. Yet there is much I do not know. Who knows what lies on the other side of that doorway in our backyard?

Maybe it beckons to inner space: leading into the Space of Now. As philosopher Eckhart Tolle famously wrote, “you may be surprised that by becoming aware of the space of Now, you suddenly feel more alive inside. You are feeling the aliveness of the inner body–the aliveness that is an intrinsic part of the joy of Being.” (A New Earth, 252).

Thanks for joining me on this journey. There really was a rainbow waiting on the other side!

welcome present!

Tell me, what is the Present hour?

—A green and flowery spray,

Where a young bird sits gathering its power

To mount and fly away

–from Emily Brontë, Poems, 1910  (second stanza)

What’s wrong with freaking out? dance therapy: try it, it works!

Follow-up thoughts on yesterday’s post:

1. In one week from today, I will be somewhere on Route I-90 driving on the route shown here.
2. On that day, June 29, we will drive approximately seven hours through Minnesota and South Dakota en route to an exciting evening of entertainment with our dog in a room at America’s Best Value Inn.
3. I have the right to freak out!
4. Maybe that “Freak Out” Star I’ve been creating is not only for you, sad people on the verge of self-harm. Maybe it’s a metaphor of how I feel right now!
5. Note to self: get interfacing asap and redo those stars so that they are less chubby and sleeker. Need to let the winsome lines be seen.
6. We all have the right to freak out.
7. As we used to say on the disco floor, “AHHH, Freak out!  Le Freak, c’est chic.”  Try and listen to this song without dancing!  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVZh4WcdC3s
8. get up and shake that booty!  I feel better already! do you?

ten days left: a Zen rebuff of Bachelard?

Today’s thought from Path to Peace seems at first glance to present a sound rebuff of the sentimentalism of Gaston Bachelard that I quoted yesterday. In her reflections, Venerable Wuling stresses facts we must admit, such as: to be alive is already to be dying a little every day, every action is ephemeral, and all love will end.

Grim realities.

Or are they really that grim? And do they truly rebuff Bachelard’s perspective? I think rather that they are complementary. They describe human realities at different levels of magnification–from the laser-like focus on the subtle perceptions of individual thinkers living with the material world in Bachelard to the Olympian scope of a Zen sage, who from a distant and dispassionate perspective looks over eons of growth, blossoming, and death in endless cycles. Both may be right, depending on how you look at things.

Although the Zen writings seem depressing, perhaps they are rather to be read as incitements to resist the inevitable! to enjoy every minute or at least accept it, out of mischief if for no other reason. Just to spite the fates, like a trickster in your own life.

June 17

four things are constant:

no world lasts forever

but will be swept away;

it is no shelter

and protects not;

one will leave everything behind

in passing to the next life;

life is incomplete

and unsatisfying.

– Shuling Wu, Path to Peace, “June 17.”

I prefer the entry for June 16 instead:

one who is free

from desire and sorrow

leaves all fetters behind

to pass beyond birth and death.

like a swan rising from a lake,

he moves on in peace

never looking back.

 

spring’s here–emancipate yourself from mental slavery!

As you go about your day, how about singing songs of freedom?  Remember what Bob Marley tried to teach us, in “Redemption Song”:

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery
None but ourselves can free our minds