I absolutely cannot stand the number 31. It is so…blah, and, adding insult to injury, it is opinionated. There’s nothing worse than someone who is blah, yet has strong opinions. About what? Then there are those who are right in your face, like the number 57. It is so incredibly obnoxious, always invading my personal … Read more
I drag myself upstairs to my bedroom. All I can think of is collapsing onto the bed and burrowing under the covers. I can see it in my mind, I can almost feel the soft sheets, the weight of the comforter. I stumble into the bathroom, pee, brush my teeth, I’m too weary to floss. … Read more
The house had a central core, the stairwell to the basement. The rest of the house was built around it. Theoretically, it was possible to walk around the house on the inside in a complete circle, except that I just couldn’t manage it. I had no trouble navigating between the kitchen, dining room, and living … Read more
The second time around went smoothly: there was absolutely no hesitation on my part at any step, and I had no need for extensive breaks in between steps. Preparing the warp, dyeing, and warping took me a total of one week, as opposed to six weeks the first time around, and I made only a … Read more
I stood at the loom, the warp in hand, yards of shimmering silk dyed in the colors of sunset on the waters flowing through my fingers. I was baffled. I couldn’t remember which warp should be tied onto which back beam, and which back beam came first. I studied the back beam. It was awfully … Read more
I am lying face up, my arms by my side, palms facing upwards. Pure light fills my visual field. I am drawn to it, drifting towards it.Time and space are of no consequence. I will reach the light. I will become one with it. I am at peace. I am. An awareness gradually permeates my … Read more
“I wouldn’t want to go back to the way I was. No matter what. Not the I’d want to repeat the experience…” Judy and I were discussing the notion of my brain injury being a blessing in disguise. Too much of a cliché, using that phrase makes me feel uncomfortable, and whenever I use it, … Read more
The Berber tribes of North Africa regard weaving as a metaphor for the cycle of life. As the weaver warps the loom, she is giving birth to the textile. While the weaver advances row by row the textile progresses from birth, through childhood, adulthood, and old age. Finally, the textile dies when the weaver removes … Read more
I used to sit at my loom, weaving, dreaming, at peace. I dreamt of the past, of women before me weaving to clothe their families, weaving to earn a living. I dreamt of the present, of indigenous weavers around the world, weaving patterns to celebrate their traditions, to ensure a future for their children. I … Read more