Oh, the stupid things we sometimes do without thinking. Yesterday I was determined to deal with a suspected hornet nest under shingles on the side of my house. Have been feeling physically powerless lately and though "I can do this!" and "All I have to do is spray!" Ummmm....no.

I began scraping away and then needed to get just a little bit higher. I gimped over and got a ladder, stood it up, and proceeded to step up to the first rung. My hip thoroughly disagreed, sending me literally bouncing off the ladder with an audible SNAP POP (in my head, anyway) from my right hip. I maneuvered to a nearby step and sat and thought about life and the pretty sky for a minute while the stairs circling my head dissipated. Next came the crab walk back to the house, and the grateful landing indoors. Holy moly. The plot has thickened. 

This is one of those weird muscle or tendon things that feels okay if I am in some positions, and unbelievably painful in others. I went down to my cellar on my bum and found a pair of crutches, and have found that using one helps a lot as I can avoid that one position that makes my right leg want to give out.  Just in time for Halloween, I am a zombeeeee!  Jeez. And this too will pass. Hoping things resolve to cane level by tomorrow. Food shopping will be really fun today.

On the bright side, my wonderful ladies' art class at my house has elected to hold class as usual this week, on Halloween! This means that the usual cobwebs now have an appropriate context and I can let them be for the week. I hope the big spider that has been living on my front porch, whom I have dubbed the unoriginal spider name of Charlotte, doesn't get too disturbed by trick-o-treaters and commotion. She is a pretty spider and has been catching icky bugs in elaborate woven webs. Really pretty. Must try to get a photo of her. 

Nor'easter heading our way today with buckets of rain expected through tomorrow. Good day to stay in and focus on art and whatever cleaning I can do. Hoping to bead a lot today and get the current piece moving into the "I can't stop beading" zone! There are so many possible ways I can embellish this one and it is challenging -- always a good sign for an artwork. 

The Amazon used book service has struck again and delivered another Batsford Press treasure -- Embroidery Motifs from Old Dutch Samplers. Jam packed with traditional patterns for birds, people, plants, letters, and even tree-of-life arrangements. So interesting to see the patterns' similarity to carpet motifs and Celtic work. 
On a similar note, there is this: The Antique Pattern Library, an online collection of so many historical charted patterns it is way to easy to get lost. I love looking at these and imagine using them in artwork...for some reason they bring order to my chaos. Just amazing. 

Onward, I gimp. Cheers. 

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My creaky, sore bones have been made vertical, and for that I am grateful. I have to think that my neighbors must think there is something racy going on in my bedroom in as I try to move and stand upon waking. The pain is really something and I can not help but cry out or gasp as I move first thing in the morning. Thank God I live alone! Never thought it would happen (Squeeze joke.)  I am trying not to make this blog about my health issues -- who the heck wants to hear that? But, this blog is about what's happening in my world am gradually seeing the impact of it all creeping up on me, and it is forefront on my busy mind, whether I like it or not. Warning, venting ahead. 

With increasing entrapment in a painful, disagreeable body comes more things that aren't getting done that should be done. Or things that should be done better than they are currently being done. The outside of my house and yard needs a lot right now before winter. The legs are laughing, saying "Yeah, right! That's funny." The floors need a deep clean, as does the entire house, really. I feel like I am living with band aid-fixes on broken limbs, and not by choice. 

Same is true with my art right now and it is probably the most bothersome. By the time I finish putting all the band aids on the needed places in my day of work, pets, and home, there is not much time and energy left to pursue the ideas my heart and mind cultivates. It is scary to see this happen. My current piece sits on the table, quietly waiting for its turn to be encrusted with beads, and the time never seems to come. 8:30 at night comes around and I am too tired and the pain is too great to give in to even one more hour of peaceful stitching, though I know it will make me feel better. All I can do is lay down. I have visions of my father doing the same thing and I want to scream...I swore I'd never live the passive, always resting life that he was forced to live (no medications back then when he had head-to-toe-pain from "some kind of arthritis." I can't even imagine what he went through.) I'm trying so hard to keep going...but...sometimes it is just so hard. 

The ideas are still flowing, and even getting better in terms of their concepts, which I am happy to notice. But their appearance in the world as physical textile objects is sadly lacking. I am terrified of becoming one of those people who "think" they are an artist but never really do anything. The ones talked about at college graduation all those years ago when the speaker said "50% of you will not be making art within 5 years."  Well. it's been 25 or so years...but I still feel the same punk attitude of "That won't be me!" If I don't try harder, it will be, though. My hands are stiff and subtly changing shape and I feel like there is a race against time. 

So what gives? Do the floors stay half clean? The dogs don't get walked? The laundry stays in the washer? The weeds take over the yard? The bedroom windows never get cleaned? Or is the art made under duress after all is done, instead of resting the legs the way they are telling me to? If I "listened to my body" I'd live in a hole like a rat and never come out. 

Last night I was really determined to do something, so I opened Adobe Photoshop and the current piece I am working on for a whole cloth quilted work. I am really excited about the imagery and exploring the possibilities for effects is almost overwhelming. I can see where stitching will go, where painting will go, what the piece could be like. It is exciting! Before I knew it an hour had gone by, seven versions of the file were made, and I was on a roll. Feeling good. Then Adobe crashed and I decided to leave it hung up over night to see if I could salvage the changes, and went to bed. At least a baby step happened.

I am left with another fine Squeeze quote. It was written in the context of a romantic relationship, but applies here as well, I think. "I want to be good, is that not enough?" Feels that way sometimes. At least it is Saturday, and I will challenge the RA beast without the workday, which should be better. Off to feed the farm and wash the floors. If you've read this much (honestly why would you?! Ha!) I hope you havea productive and happy day. Cheers! 

For those who aren't familiar (although if you know me you must be by now!), Chris Difford is half of the songwriting duo that is Squeeze. Over the past 35 years I've seen almost every show in the area, have every record (and think the sons are part of my DNA, now.) Have met both Chris and Glenn in quick post-show "meet and greets," but know that the quick hello and effluvium of praise isn't always taken in by the recipients.

Last week I read Chris' blog and he sounded weary and hesitant to jump into this new tour. His blog reflected that he was leaving his beloved wife and family, yet again, and facing long, hard days on the road. He was appreciative of the opportunity to do so, but was just acknowledging that it was hard for him to do. Me, being an unashamed groupie, shot off an email of support and love and was amazed when he replied that "it made his day." I think I wrote about this last week, even. Was a delightful experience!

At 2:30 this morning I came across a link to Chris Difford's blog, which is always fun to read as his witty take on things makes me think more than twice. The entry began with a description of traveling to Ireland to play, and all the "stuff" that goes along with it. Then, as I read on, I found my own words on his blog. He included my note and said "And so i wake up to this email from my website, and gratitude flows over me like a shower of warmness, Thank you."  Stop the presses. Take a breath.

To whoever says the Internet and social media causes harm, I beg to differ. (or Difford, if you will excuse the pun.) If I had thought as a teenager that I'd be able to actually connect with him in a meaningful way and he'd actually be happy as a result, I wouldn't have believed it.  This world is so big, and so full of moving parts - people, time, space, places, information -- it never stops. But for one little moment, I reached out across the Internet, not knowing what was at the other end. I am tickled that the recipient caught the bouquet and sent me one in return.  It is a gift I will never forget! And two nights of dancing (even if it is chair dancing!) with excellent seats coming up in November really sweetens the onset of Fall. Thank you, Mr. Difford, for everything. We are all just human, after all, and you never know when kind words and appreciation can make a difference to someone. 

Onward to a full day that I am fighting to have as I am flaring up and in wicked, evil physical pain. Things I don't want to wait on will have to wait, and I will have to put one sore foot in front of the other and get through what I can, accepting the limitations. This sucks. Not writing this here for sympathy, just personal reflection. If I mention it here I can keep track, which is important to do. The lower back is not super painful but the legs are, with some instability. Hands, arms, and of course, Da Feet. I want to crawl back into bed for the day but know that isn't possible. Onward, I say.  With a happy heart from the gift of connection.