Category: Blog (Page 55 of 101)

She draws:

I stitch:

I make pictures with clouds,

I see faces in rocks, (Aren’t they cute?)

And I see hearts in a bowl of freshly-dug potatoes:

I do the same thing with Nancy’s drawings, you know: I crane and strain to see something recognizable, something familiar, something that makes meaning out of uncertainty, and something that explains what sure seems like the unfairness of life that lands me here and Nancy there. Why am I doing this project? That’s a question I’m often asked – a question I often ask myself – and the answer is: I don’t know . . . yet. It’s just something I can’t not do. So for now, we are just two women, involved in a collaborative art project. Two women brought together by the geography of love.

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

Nancy draws:

Then I stitch:

In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never seen Nancy draw. She used to write her name, my name, Andy’s name, Penny’s name, Donn and Carole’s names. She’d write our birthdays, too – all without any prompting. But this time she drew.

And drew.

And drew.

It was meditative drawing, there’s no doubt about that.

Stitching does that for me. The up and down of the needle going back and forth across the cloth – that’s a rhythm that provides a space for me to drift off into reverie, to plumb the depths of my wonderings. Stitching is meditation for me. I am deeply connected with cloth and thread, with stitching which has long been considered women’s work.

“the hands know,
the materials too,
quite apart from your imaginings,
less or more than your intentions –
following the pattern that emerges,
the story as it tells.”
Jane Whiteley

You know, I get to select the cloth I’ll use, the color of thread, even the particular needle. Nancy uses what is put in front of her. Sometimes the possibilities, the vast array of choices overwhelm me to the point of shutdown. Nancy didn’t seem affected one little bit about having no choices. Maybe she’s used to using what’s put in front of her, of not having choices. Sometimes less really is more. Sometimes creativity thrives with boundaries. Sometimes the imagination romps long and wildly within certain restrictions.

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

She draws:

I stitch:

We make a good team.

Nancy spent several years as a resident of Stewart Home School in Frankfort, Kentucky before moving to Duvall Presbyterian Home in Glenwood, Florida. During one weekend visit, Nancy and I spent the entire weekend talking about her friends Terry Lynn and Baker. At the end of the weekend when we settled her back into her dorm, I asked to meet her friends I now knew so much about. Turns out that Terry Lynn had been dead for nearly 15 years, and Baker was a white stuffed bear residing on her bed. Here she is, our Nancy posing for a picture on a Stewart Home School family weekend with her parents and my children. Today is my son’s birthday.

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

She draws:

I stitch:

“Concepts can never be presented to me merely,
they must be knitted into the structure of my being,
and this can only be done through my own activity.”
~ M. P. Follett in Creative Experiences

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

Every day for the past 8 weeks,
it starts with one of Nancy’s drawings. Today, #57:

And every day I stitch the drawing du jour:

Here are the 7 I stitched this past week:

Last night
my moonsparkle friend
sent me this quote from Don Quixote.
Said it made her think of Nancy:

Maybe the greatest madness is to see life as it is rather than what it could be.

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

“The condition of vitality next involves the emphasis in each symbol of the living forces, the vital character, of the thing represented, in preference to mere surface qualities.”

“This effect of vitality will be enhanced if the symbol states no more than the essential feature, if it states them clearly, and if it states them swiftly,”

“for the very swiftness of the execution will convey a sense of power and liveliness to the spectator.”

“This vitality must also be accompanied with the tenderness and subtlety born of long and earnest insight into nature, or the symbol, though spirited, will be shallow . . . ” C. J. Holmes, Notes on the Science of Picture-Making

There are 2 pen strokes in her 56th drawing.

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

She goes first:

(The faint lines are bleed-through from the previous page.)
(There are two pen strokes in this drawing.)

Then I stitch:

The act of sewing is a process of emotional repair.

~ Lousie Bourgeois

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

Nancy’s hands:

My hands:

I stitched today’s drawing while sitting in waiting rooms at Emory with my mother – the Center for Dizziness and Balance in the morning, and the Neck and Spine Center in the afternoon. (She is fine – going to take some cortisone and therapy for her neck and shoulder then later this year or maybe the first of next year, do some therapy for balance. She has pinched nerves and arthritis in her neck, and she grows more and more afraid of falling . . . which of course increases the likelihood of her falling.) Before stitching each drawing, I trace it with my finger, always intrigued and impressed with what Nancy has done. #54 has 4 pen strokes. I happened to have some pink thread in my bag, so I defined and delineated the 4 pen strokes in this one. I am in the process of adding the number of pen strokes to each post. I don’t know why it’s a big thing for me, but it is. A medical student who saw mother today – her name is Tate, not sure if that’s her first or last name – noticed me stitching and asked me about it. (That’s how I knew she is a student – she made eye contact, engaged with me, expressed curiosity, and listened to what I was saying.) I told her several things about Nancy, including how good she is with puzzles – how she puts them together without using the box top as a guide and can finish a 750-piece puzzle before I can get all the pieces turned right-side-up. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “I don’t really know,” I told her, “I’m living a deep mystery. I can’t tell you why I’m doing it, only that it’s important. I only know I’m doing it because I can’t not do it.” When she heard that, Tate smiled and said, “So Nancy’s drawings are your puzzle.”

“Why do you paint? For the same reason I breathe.” e. e. cumming

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.