Tag: in our own language 1 (Page 2 of 17)

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Perhaps Albert Einstein put it best:
“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift,
and the rational mind is a faithful servant.
We have created a society that honors the servant
and has forgotten the gift.”

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I am reading a book about drawing
(and finding it very interesting).
Today I took my sketchbook and pencils
and I meant to sketch out a few things,
but I couldn’t because
the blues (yet another shade, mind you)
held me hostage.

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(Taken from a rapidly moving taxi.
As my daughter said,
“We may not have gone to Six Flags over anything this year,
but we did have a ride in a taxi in St. Thomas.”

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(Okay, maybe it’s more green than blue,
but it was a part of today.)

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~~~~~~~~~

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.

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Today looked like:

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and

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and

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and

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and

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and

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and

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and*

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* My daughter, Alison,
spent too much time
on her broken foot yesterday,
so I brought her a party today
so she could stay in bed.


~~~~~~~~~

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.

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For as long as I can remember,
blue has been my favorite color,
the color I can count on to catch my eye
and attract my attention
and hold my heart in bated breath.

 

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Today was full of blues
that left me downright gobsmacked.

 

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Mesmerized.
Lifted.

 

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I stitched on my new cloth today.
It seemed fitting.
Right.
I just can’t get the hang of
using a hoop,
and I bought some big clips
from the office supply store,
but they made it unbelievably heavy
and it clinked and clanked all the time.
So I went back to my original plan.
I fold it a certain way,
spread it across my lap and over the arms
of the chair,
and I slide an old clipboard
under it
to bounce the needle off off
as I stitch.
It works just fine.

 

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We’re almost to the end of Nancy’s Drawings, Set 1.

 

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What will I do then?
Bring them together in a cloth
Then start stitching Set 2,
of course.

 

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~~~~~~~~~

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.

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Sunday

a day filled with
tai chi
and a movie.
stitching.
napping,

 

Dancing

and dancing with
new friends,
wise women
who are no longer willing
to wait on a man
before taking the
dance floor.
oh the fun we had.
i think women were made
for dancing.
i really do.

 

Moon

the moon treated us
to an earlier-than-usual
appearance.

 

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and today’s drawing

(taken in the most awful lighting you can imagine)
that looks
for all the world
like a rose to me.

all in all,
i’d say that today
came out smelling like a rose.

 

~~~~~~~~~

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.

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Masters of embroidery know that it is not enough to follow faithfully the drawing traced: the expert needlewoman must be in possession of the nature of the drawing, to give to it with each stitch the appearance of life, sometimes life itself. The vibration of a wave lies not only in the perfect placing of the woolen thread, and the passing of the needle in the cloth follows an interior movement that is not exhausted by the mechanical gesture.
– Marta Morazzoni, The Invention of Truth

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~~~~~~~~~

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.

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It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;
What is essential is invisible to the eye.

Antoine De Saint-Exupery
from The Little Princee

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~~~~~~~~~

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.

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Drawing seems to calm Nancy
or maybe it distracts her
either way,
the result is the same.

Nancy was watching tv when we went to pick her up,
her face lit up in a smile
when I turned the corner,
and she got up as fast as I’ve seen her get up
in a long time.
She moves slower now, you see.

She seems to zone out more,
and today we saw mini-episodes
of what sure looked like OCD behavior
as she arranged everything from
pamphlets that Andy strategically placed
in the truck in hopes of keeping her from
taking his maps and receipts
and eyeglass cleaning cloths.
It worked,
but she didn’t especially like
where he put them
and then at the restaurant,
she saw fit to
take the fries off her plate
and neatly arrange them
on a napkin.

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She tried to wrestle the sketchbooks
away from me in the car.
She likes to draw.

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She began drawing like she did yesterday:
writing her name
or the word “love”
or a combination of the two
then encasing
and ultimately obscuring it.
My mother said she saw
birds and sometimes,
angels in the drawings today.

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But by the time we left today,
her name (if that’s what she was writing)
was not legible.

Was she tired
or does it reflect how she
feels about herself
and her life?
Maybe the correct answer is
D) all of the above.

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We saw turkeys on the driveway
to the cottage Nancy lives in.

Sunset

And the sun was setting when we got
back to the hotel
to close out this Thanksgiving
with margaritas
and two loads of laundry.

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~~~~~~~~~

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.

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Clouds

Today started off much like yesterday ended:
with a cloud poem.
Interesting how the clouds actually look quite similar,
like today just picked up
where yesterday left off.

Chuck

This is Chuck.
He apparently loves dangling earrings,
based on the way he lunged at me
and used his freshly-sharpened claws
to climb up my chest in
pursuit of the aforementioned
earrings
less than 5 seconds
after I snapped this photo.

[ :: ]

We paid Nancy a surprise visit today.
When we walked in,
she was sitting in the living room,
cleaning out her pocketbook,
tossing papers on the floor.

We took her for an after school snack,
and of course I just happened to have several
new, blank sketchbooks and markers in my pocketbook.

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There were birds

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and two-toned drawings

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and double-page spreads,
(She always started with the
righthand page
then spread out onto the
page on the left.)

Napkin

You’ve heard stores about
books and businesses
and inventions
getting their start on
a napkin?

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She was uncharacteristically serious
about a few drawings,
intent on what she was doing.

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But for the most part,
she was her usual smiling,
contented artistic self.

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Today she started every drawing with a word,
usually her name
or the word “love”
or a combination of the two.

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Then she set about
embellishing the word

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layering drawings
until the word was nearly invisible.

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Like always,
she knew when she was finished
with one drawing
and ready to start another.

[ :: ]

Remember those papers she was throwing away
when we first arrived?

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Read the line at the bottom of the page:
Hidden pictures.
Coincidence?
Do babies only smile
when they have gas?
I think not.
On both counts.

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It was a good day.
Art-filled days usually are.

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~~~~~~~~~

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.

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This drawing speaks to me of parent/child.

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Today’s sky: a cloud poem.

We are quite the motley crew:
my husband with his hurt back;
my mother with her aching neck/shoulder/leg/hip,
and my daughter with her broken foot and badly sprained ankle.

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We had arts and crafts time tonight.

~~~~~~~~~

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.

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Tonight my daughter and I worked on measuring and preparing things to stock her new etsy shop. It’s mostly vintage clothes and housewares, her inventory.

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We worked at my mother’s house, and before long, my mother really got into the spirit of things, bringing out the pink beaded chiffon dress she wore at my wedding, 39.5 years ago.

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My math teacher’s wife helped her pick it out. All these years, and I had no idea she kept that dress. I’m glad she did, though.

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It seemed the perfect setting for #156 since Nancy was at that same wedding.

~~~~~~~~~

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.

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