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a twist on Audre Lorde’s fatalism

Audre Lorde once challenged us, saying: “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House, in an essay that stands alone in the annals of feminist thought. It’s the ultimate conundrum, the inflexible status quo: our master patriarchy and its soul-mate capitalism. Their attitudes, expectations, their demands persist. Yet we try.

Lord knows I tried, during my stints in the ND administration. And now I’ve moved on, leaving the next generation of generous women to see what they can do.

Now I’m communicating in a different medium, of fabric instead of faculty meetings. Now I tell my views in the abstract, universal languages of color, shape, and texture, to convey wisdom, build community and share love. Now I use the tools of the mistress.

Yet the tensions live on.

Looking at “Respect” quilt no. 5 this morning in the frosty light, I see a visual response to Audre Lorde. The black arabesque lines of the black-and-white trim (formerly a duvet cover) now appear like wrought-iron filigree, the bars of a black gate, a baroque barricade. These vertical lines of fabric (inspired by the quiltmakers of Gee’s Bend), which are broken by the vibrant squares, reveal my interpretation of “Respect”.

They tell of strong women embracing life. Powerful metaphors–of grinning skulls, dancing feet, peace symbols, girls jumping rope, horses running, clouds, whirlwinds–are unleashed and draw in the eye, capturing the gaze in dream-like intensity. This story is bursting through the wrought-iron gates. And it will persist; it’s well sewn.

Happy hopeful holidays to all!

*Audre Lorde (1934-1992) was a self-described “Black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet,” who dedicated both her life and her creative talent to confronting and addressing injustices of racism, sexism, classism, heterosexism, and homophobia. The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House, a book of feminist essays, was published in 1979.

I came to love her feisty spirit in graduate school in the 1980s, inspired by the radical work I was learning about in Women’s Studies (estab. 1982), with strong, witty professors such as Christine Stansell, Natalie Zemon Davis, Joan DeJean, Kay Warren, and Sandra Gilbert. And that quote, that concept, that challenge, has stayed with me ever since, like a nagging reminder of the work to be done and a depressing reminder of how fragile progress is, how ubiquitous the forces of “order.”

P.S. “Respect” quilt no. 5 is destined to another person who inspires us: renowned artist, quilt-maker and writer Faith Ringgold. More on that to come! I’m hoping to be able to wish her a Merry Christmas and Happy Quilt Day on 12/25… gotta get back to work!

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a quilt is born

a brief news flash from the world of Honey Girl Books and Gifts:

Number 13 in the Great Chain of Quilts est. November 2016, was just finished. This one is for Pam. The front features five lines of multi-colored cotton sewn in synchronized patterns, symbolizing the lives of Pam, her three children, and two grandchildren in ways that she will plainly see (and can read about in the “Story of Pam” that accompanies the quilt). The back features a soft fleece photo blanket designed and created by her daughter, where dozens of  family photos are arranged in loving company. That’s a nice model of how our minds work: photo memories on one side, symbolic patterns on the other: realism meets destiny.

Hope she likes it!

Pam's quilt July 22 2018

Pam's quilt back July 22 2018.jpg

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creativity dogs happiness health humor meditation nature storms T'ai chi trees Zen philosophy

a few of my favorite things

 

 

Today I declared a personal snow day and canceled all three of my appointments. They were friendly visits anyway, and we’ll all see each other soon. Instead of driving around and dealing with the traffic and weather, I stayed home. Rich made bread, which means that the house was warm and smelled soooo good for several hours this morning.

Honey girl in morning.jpg

Favorite thing: Honey Girl and her warm fuzzy greetings every morning.

Favorite things: exercise and meditation. I got to catch up with my Morning Routine which felt restorative.

Favorite thing: I organized all the fabric in my studio (aka the guest bedroom) and took stock of the inventory. Wrote stuff down. That felt good.

Favorite thing: I moved forward on the three pillows I’m finishing this week, plus the quilt. Starting to feel like a real artisan.

 

 

Favorite things: There are many things in these pictures to love:

  1. an adorable French postcard now messed up by living in the kitchen but that makes it even more precious13 postcard.jpg
  2. a pepper mill by the French brand Pylones (a “must” whenever you’re in Paris, n’est-ce pas? soo cute!)
  3. a beautiful round loaf of Rich’s crusty French bread,
  4. the “fabricard” I created to accompany the Limited Edition Literary Pillow. This one accompanies No. 1, The Ladies’ Paradise, by Zola. The citations will zero in on key moments in the book to give readers a satisfying sense of what the book is about.
  5. Pillows that I am working on, with my sturdy 1928 White Rotary sewing machine!  The full repertoire of Honey Girl Books and Gifts is due Friday December 15, for the SPARK class graduation at Saint Mary’s College. I’m almost ready. Snow days are helpful. And being on winter break from teaching too.

Speaking of which, the website for my new business, Honey Girl Books and Gifts, is now available!   https://www.honeygirlbooks.com/

It’s not quite “official start” ready yet, because the purchase function and A.V. stuff aren’t plugged in yet, but you can email me at juliawsea@gmail.com if you want to get a jump on the crowds!  I’ll accept pre-orders from readers of this blog.

***

View from Sunroom Dec 12 2017

Now back to the contemplation of favorite things.

As I was moving around in silence this morning, enjoying the light snow outside and the cozy sounds of this old house, and Rich and Honey Girl moving around downstairs, I suddenly felt a Zen sense of detached observation.

Watching the quick industrious ways my mind and hands were working together, I thought of an article read in last Sunday’s New York Times Book Review. It is one of the most startling and useful metaphors for how the mind works (along with William James, to whom we will return one day), that I have ever seen. And, as a professor of literature for 30+ years, I’ve seen a lot! It made me feel serene, and affirmed more than ever the new path I’m on. Change, physical vitality, and hope: that’s what is making me feel so young these days.

Citing the work of Sigmund Freud to explain the antecedents of Oliver Sacks’s discoveries, the reviewer Nicole Krauss writes, “Freud wrote that he had come to explain psychoneuroses ‘by supposing that this translation has not taken place in the case of some of the material.’ In other words, that our psychological health depends on our ability to constantly revise and refashion memory to allow for growth and change, and the absence of this process–the stagnation of a memory, the brain’s treatment of it as something fixed–leads to pathology.”

“This is an extraordinary insight,” continues Krauss, one that helped to establish our understanding of the self as flexible instead of static, and our sense of the past as an imaginative reconstruction, ever evolving, both of which make therapy possible.”

The reviewer notes rightly that Oliver Sacks, as a neurologist and brilliant writer, “deepened our understanding of the dynamic, creative abilities of the brain by uncovering, again and again, the unusual ways the impaired brain may deal with its handicaps, compensating in ingenious ways, or by creating plausible explanations for the nonsensical, thus preserving a form of coherence, however subjective. ” [Sounds like some of Sartre’s characters.]

As Krauss explains, Sacks’s work is particularly powerful for young writers, who suddenly are able to see how “for the brain, the coherence that narrative forges is paramount to an accurate account of reality.”

I agree with Krauss that narrative is a primary human activity, without which we waste away.  That is what my narrative quilts are all about!

***

See Jane E. Brody’s piece on loneliness in today’s New York Times. After reading that, I reflected on 1) how lonely I used to feel last year, and 2) what has made me feel better.  Here are the things I am grateful for:  1) reading Byron Katie and learning to do “the work” on the thoughts that come into my head; 2) learning to practice T’ai Chi and meditation daily; 3) sewing; and 4) being able to channel my creativity into things I love, instead of trying to please external censors. As a businesswoman, I will see if there are any buyers out there. As they say, Some Will, Some Won’t, So What. Surely there is some lonely soul out there, or a grandma or a lover, who would like to give one of my soft and lustrous goods to a beloved?

At any rate, I don’t have to worry about some jerk at Stanford any more.

I wrote to Jane Brody, actually, with a compliment on how her article made me realize things, and an offer. I proposed a complimentary quilt from my new business, to see if she might agree that it has therapeutic effects.  We’ll see if she replies!

In the meantime, it appears that we weavers of meaning, artists of cloth, paper and pen, are all entirely “normal.” Whatever that is.

Whiteout Dec 12 2017