You and me together

I just looked at the pictures and video that are on my camera to see what I wanted to post today. What I really want to post is a video that I took of Dan this morning, but I don't dare do it unless he okays it. Dan is dancing to the J. Geils Band while cooking breakfast. The reason that I videotaped his dancing today is that it just feels so good to see him back to himself. He's been soooo sick, and to see him dancing today was truly one of the greatest joys of my life.

What last week taught me while he was bed-ridden is just how much I'm capable of loving. Even though he was right there in bed with me, I missed him. I missed his joking and his laughing. When he'd experience a coughing jag that would bring tears to his eyes, I would cry. I massaged his back, laid my cold hands on his forehead, and rubbed his arms. I wanted to do everything I could to make it go away, but I couldn't.

The only thing this experience mimics is the helplessness I felt when my baby girl was sick with strep. I remember holding her and rocking her little body through the night while tears ran down my cheeks. It hurt to watch her and to feel her little body be so hot and listless.

I'm learning the art of detachment over and over. I can love deeply, more than I ever knew existed, and still feel helpless. I'm learning that sometimes there is nothing to do but to let go. There are times when there is nothing I can do. Nothing at all.

I've been living with Dan now for 111 days, and what I've discovered is that with each passing day I am clearly more in love with him. Even in the dreariest, sickest moments I wanted to be nowhere else but at his side. There are times that just looking at him breaks my heart open even more.

And with that being said, I just remembered a video that I want to include in this post. Baby, it's you and me together. We can do anything. Ah, how I love you...

The Tam Prize

For Dan's birthday a dear friend gave him one of his paintings.

This isn't the best picture of Ron Throop's painting, but it's what I've got on me right now. Notice the little triangular guy placed throughout the piece?

His name is Tam, and he was invented by Ron's 10 year old daughter, Sophie.

Ron entered an art show with two pieces, neither one having Tam on them, but brilliant nonetheless. Extraordinary, really. Dan and I decided we would honor Ron with our own award, so we set out to make our very own Tam prize with Dan's tie-dyed fabrics.

Here's the mastermind behind the pattern making...

I sewed the face together complete with alpaca dredlocks for his eyebrow.

And here he is upon completion...

And then we have one "mad" artist presenting the award to another who has chosen to hide behind his hand.

C'mon, have you ever seen a happier face on anyone??? And I'm talking about the man, not the Tam... Congratulations, Ron! You are an amazing artist and writer, and Dan and I are so privileged to call you friend.

what a life...

My most enjoyable moments are when Dan and I are in the house working, not together necessarily, but jumping from his room (the kitchen where he's dyeing) to the sewing room where I'm cutting and stitching away. It's been raining all day. The snow's almost gone, and it was perfect weather to stay home and dye and sew. We've got a few projects that are needing to be done this week, and I'll show you the latest "invention" -- the sleeve purse.

This one is made from a tie-dyed t-shirt for a toddler, so the sleeves are really small. Dan took the picture with the measurements visible so you can see just how tiny this bad boy is. Perfect for a cell phone, lipstick, ID, and credit card. The strap is braided decorative yarns, and I sewed a little tie-dyed fabric bead on top of the patch in the corner. This is the beginning of this line. Well, not really. We've already got some at a store here in town. However, it is the first purse from toddler sleeves.

One of the things I realized today while I was watching Dan do his magic on his dyeing table is that we both dress very similarly. Our accents are now the same. (Only the two of us can understand each other!) We have slowly melded into one another. I told him today I can hardly tell a separation between the two of us. We've even awakened in the morning from having the exact same dream. This morning I walked into the kitchen singing the freakin' Monkees theme song, and he said that melody had been going through his head.

Here's one of my regular views, and apparently it was taken quite awhile ago, because I'm looking out the window now, and there's just traces of snow. The lake is flowing like crazy and not a piece of ice to be seen.

I have to admit that there is nothing as cute, warm, and homey as McKinney's square. I think of it often and remember having coffee in Spoons Garage, listening to Broken Code or Buzz at Cadillac's, having a UFO at Square Burger, and the list can (and does) go on and on. However, there is something about this town that draws me like no other. I am not really sure why I'm here except to be with Dan. It just feels very strongly that there's more to it than that, even though that's a huge reason. It's been life-altering. I told him last night that it feels like I'm more me than I've ever been when I'm connecting with him. When I touch him it's as if I'm plugging into who I really am. I've never experienced this before, so I find it extraordinary.

Happy doesn't even come close to the way I feel here.

I pull my hair back, throw on a few layers, and get to playin' in my room. The design wall behind me in this picture has parts of several commissioned pieces pinned to it. And, as you can tell I'm rarely alone. Just when I think it's safe to turn around without a flash aimed at me, there's Dan with the camera. I've never had so many pictures taken of me before. I was the photographer, so I was the invisible one. With Dan, I'm the subject.

Tonight's a night on the campus to see a documentary, and first thing in the morning off we go to see an art exhibit in Syracuse with his class. Afterwards we'll replenish our energy, and then commence with the drinking and dancing to live music.

Every day is a full one with Dan. Every night even fuller. I am at this very moment the absolute fullest I've ever been, and I just know it's only just begun...

Oh yeah, and here's one of the pieces now. The beginnings of this one is right behind my head on the design wall in the picture above this one. This is made exclusively from someone's clothing. The middle diamond is part of his handkerchief with his embroidered initials. His name starts with an "H" so I designed this piece to resemble an "H". The red is from an LL Bean chamois shirt. The blue plaid behind the circles are from a nightshirt as is the small squares and circles. The larger circles are from his ties, and then there's the bandanna strips.

Unbeknownst to the person who has commissioned me to do these pieces, I've also made a couple of items for her children from their grandfather's clothing also.

Here's a little purse for her daughter made of the pocket off that LL Bean chamois shirt. Of course, I had to sew in some tie-dyed fringe. The strap is made from decorative yarn and a strip of another shirt.

This is a zipper bag made from her father's overalls with the knee patch still intact. The zipper is from one of Dan's son's pants. You can see it a bit on the left side of the picture, and the lining is fabric from my friend's husband's shirt.

This has been an amazing experience to work with this man's clothing. I did not know him, and have only known his daughter since moving here, but from what I can feel while working on these items, this man was genuinely compassionate. What an absolute pleasure to be able to make these wall hangings, etc. I don't take this lightly. I've spent most of my adult life in anger, displeasure... just yuck. And now, I get to enjoy what I do with such magnitude AND with a man that truly is my magnifier -- he magnifies my joy, my level of happiness and sincerest love. I am awed. I am grateful. I am just blissed out. What a life...

sixteen minutes

I have sixteen minutes to write something before this computer shuts me out. Sixteen minutes and I feel how fleeting that is right now.

Interesting because I was listening to an NPR show last Sunday about the myth of time. Well, tell that to this computer...

So, since my last post (I feel my Catholic roots coming on -- Bless me, Father, it's been 82,000 years since my last confession...), I've been sewing like crazy, delivering product to a new retail outlet for Dan and me, continuing to finish commissioned pieces, and throwing out resumes in Oswego. Yes, you read that right. I feel the need to sink my teeth into Oswego. A friend asked me how many people I knew here, and I felt it was way too few for the three months I've lived here. I've pretty much hunkered down with Dan (and loving every minute of it), and now would love to get out into the community and make myself known. Not sure, though, that Oswego's ready, but we'll soon find out.

Dan and I discovered new products today that will rock the accessory world. As soon as we're back home, I'm sure there will be pictures taken and posted for your viewing pleasure. The first one was completed today, and more, oh so many more, will be in production very soon. Let's just say it gives new meaning to pockets and sleeves. Just sayin'...

It's amazing what shows up for me under slight duress. Birthday presents were needed and voila! Out arrived the new baby of the Dan and Jill variety (and comedy) show. Cute as can be, and the only thing really necessary is to post pictures as soon as I can. So stay tuned, and witness the life emerging over here in the land of a great lake!

milestones...

Today marks a milestone. I've been here in NY with Dan for 84 days, one day longer than I was in New Mexico. It's also the day before Texas Independence Day and Dan's birthday. Several milestones, I guess. I've never celebrated Texas Independence Day or Dan's birthday before. Again, new experiences, and believe me, celebrating with Dan is always a new experience. Because today is his last day to be 54, I want to dedicate this time and this space to the man that I am privileged to live with and to call my own. Ah...

Today we got our second piece of mail with both our names on it. I don't know quite how to describe what that felt like. I looked at both our names with an "and" sign in the middle, sent to one address. I know I live here with him. I wake up with him every morning. I go to bed with him every night. I call this home. This is where I want to encrust a few roots. Then I see our names typed together on a mailing label from a local museum where we are now members, and I feel as if the Universe is agreeing with me. We belong together. We sooooo belong together.

I'm working on a few commissioned pieces right now, and he's been documenting every step of the way. I've put up a design wall in my studio space so I can view the makings of the wall hangings from hour to hour, moment by moment. And before I know it, Dan's taking pictures of the progression of the strips, the circles, the squares, and the rectangles. I'm making five wall hangings and one pillow out of someone's father's clothing. He was a surgeon and a hunter, so I have a collection of silk ties and camo, dress shirts and overalls, not to mention the bright hunter orange shirt. Dan has given me advice, listened to my musings, and put up with whining when I couldn't figure out why I wasn't pleased with the pieces.




way before a million changes


I've never had this in my life. I've never had a man who was so encouraging to my artist whims. I've never had someone want to be a part of this growing experiment of making wall art from clothing. He has provided me with solitude when he knew I needed it and an ear when I needed to be heard.

We discovered each other when we were 54 years old, when we least expected it, when we both fought the inevitable. When we surrendered to the fact that we were meant to be together, it was (and continues to be) truly magical, and the easiest thing we both have ever done.

It's been 84 days of bliss, of extraordinary education in art, of stretching myself, and of allowing the most beautiful man into my life. I've grown my sewing space, and I've grown my imagination. The latest things I've done with his tie-dyes have yet to be completely finished, but I'll unveil the happenings here.




tie-dyed fabric beads


If it weren't for Dan Leo, I would not be where I am right now or who I am right now. I love it all more than I've loved any of it before. I've never felt like I belong like I do here, and believe me I knew I belonged in McKinney, Texas, so just imagine what my belonging in this place to this man feels like!

We're working on a name for our business. We thought we had it twice already. However, both names were already taken, so now back to square one. In the meantime, I'll keep posting our latest works and our latest comings and goings.

You know, people have always told me that if they knew what it was like to be a grandparent they would have chosen that first. Well, if I'd ever known what it was like to love this man and live with this man like I do, I would have done it first. But because we met up when we'd both been through a lot, after tremendous growth and pain, we have created a life together that is beyond compare. I could never have had this kind of relationship without first experiencing all that I didn't want first. So, to all that participated in that challenging growth, I thank you because right here, right now I'm the happiest I've ever been. This is right where I belong.

baring my soul

Over two months ago when I took that train to Syracuse little did I know about the life I was propelling myself into. If I had known, I would have done it sooner.

I had no idea love felt like this. I didn't know the capacity or the depth in which I could feel it so strongly. Every day it escalates even more. Being able to wake up every morning and open my eyes to see the man beside me has truly been the warmest and happiest moments of my life. I am astounded at the feelings that emerge morning after morning after morning. If I could bring this miracle into my life, what else can I do?

I ask myself that on a regular basis. I truly feel that I'm still holding myself back a bit. There's a distrust, no matter how slight it may be, that keeps me from truly believing in my own talents. Dan and I were watching a movie the other night about Jackson Pollock, and one of the things that struck me was someone's comment that Jackson himself doubted his own ability in creating astounding art. Well now...

I listened to those words and knew they struck a resounding chord with me. The only reason I am not where I really desire to be artistically speaking is because I've held myself back. I've allowed the inner critic's voice to be a tad bit louder than I'd like. I shake my head at this revelation because it seems crazy that I would keep myself from getting what I really want, but the truth is that I have.

I've moved across the country to be with a man that creates the most amazing fabric designs. He brings me materials to work with on an almost daily basis. I've purchased all new supplies and tools. My sewing space has been expanded yet again, and I create daily. I dream about new items to make. I'm "given" new directions every night in my dream state. I've even had my next novel "told" to me while I was sleeping.

I have manically sewn fabric stories, purses, and artwork along with knitting scarves and purses out of Dan's tie-dyed t-shirts. Hardly a day goes by that I'm not in my studio space bent over the cutting table or sewing machine and madly designing, sewing, or cutting. My new inventory is building up beautifully. I look at all the purses, scarves, and wall hangings a lot. I marvel at them. I even question where they came from, and maybe that's where the hesitancy to market them comes from. If I can bring into my life a love beyond my wildest dreams, then why is it so confounding to me that I can create the items that I have? How can I possibly deny others' joy in having them? Where exactly do I get off making myself smaller, less talented than I am? What am I so afraid of? Being successful? Having it all? Sweet Jesus! How will I ever know if I don't push myself out that door and welcome those who have been waiting for me just as I have them?

So I grew up Southern, Catholic, and the only girl in a house full of boys. So I grew up being told I couldn't do things because I was a girl. So fuckin' what! Get over it already! It's time to play in the big leagues. It's time to thoroughly enjoy my life with this dear, sweet man of mine. It is time to relinquish all doubts, throw caution to the wind, and put myself out there because no one can make what I make. No one else can put things together like I do just as it's true about everyone else. When we don't give the world our best gifts, then who are we really cheating? More importantly, why waste our lives, our talents, our skills like that?

Why indeed!

Here are a few of the items I've been working on. They weren't finished at the time of the picture taking, but most of them are ready to shed their light all over the world! I so enjoy what I do, and my greatest gift would be to shower the viewer with that immense joy.

what I can do with some tie-dyed t-shirts

scarves I knitted from tie-dyed t-shirts

This one has some mohair yarn knitted in also.



I knitted this from one of Dan's son's knit shirts "seaming" it with a tie-dyed t-shirt, knitted tie-dyed strap and bobble for a closure.  I still need to make the loop to put around the bobble, but this is my latest creation.



This is a purse I made from the sleeves of a tie-dyed t-shirt.

This purse is made from three blouses Dan bought me from a thrift shop. The brown is some kind of knit velveteen to give it a great texture. The only tie-dyed fabric on this one is the inside pocket and the loop that goes over the button. The lining is a cotton fabric from one of the boys' shirts.

And here's a view of some unfinished purses. They are all done now and up for sale! All are made from clothing, even the embellishments.

This is just the beginning, and I look forward to showing you more. Sixty-nine days after arriving here, and I've already taken over more than half of the front room. My fabric stash grows steadily, and I am so very, very grateful for being able to share with you what I so love.

going steady

This picture shows some of the things Dan has given me over the last 42+ days we've been together, and the very latest thing was his high school ring. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you heard it first right here. Dan Leo and I are going steady.

We went to the same high school a million years ago. Well, actually here's another glimpse of the ring so you'll know for yourself what year we graduated.

And if you graduated from high school about the same time we did, you may need to blow this picture up really big to be able to read the numbers.

You see, Dan has the habit of saving a plethora of things from his life. I do not. He has a bazzillion boxes of treasures. I pretty much have what he's given to me, and that's adding up quite a bit already. Just a couple of nights ago he was going through one of those boxes and discovered his high school ring. Since I gave him my tassel from my graduation mortar board, he passed his ring to me.

I've never gone steady before. I remember looking at some of my high school friends' hands and seeing their boyfriends' rings packed on their fingers with yarn. I couldn't resist doing the same thing, so in the picture there's plenty of fabric strips tied around that bad boy. However, it's just too cumbersome to wear. Dammit, just when I get a ring to go steady with the boy of my dreams, I don't like lugging around baggage of any kind.

Dan and I have been at his college today watching videos he's going to show in his diversity in art class, and lo and behold there was an artist that has to be a sister of his separated at birth. She and her daughter (Betye Saar and Alison Saar) searched all over for found objects to put in their art. They talked about how magical their worlds are because of the way they see it. They can take things left behind in a fire, for instance, clean them up, and use them as treasures knowing that at one time they were prized possessions truly loved by someone before a fire moved through their house and levelled it. They could take anything found on the street and turn it into something magical. They called themselves Conjure Artists because they were able to create magic from twigs, bottle caps, doll parts, etc.

I live with a Conjure Artist. Our house is filled with his magical tools. I've been blogging about creating a small spot for me. I made myself believe that I could only create in an uncluttered space, and the truth is that it's not true. Dan and I got to work together this week all week long. He's introduced me to artists I've never heard of. We've looked at pictures, watched videos and DVDs. We've talked about how we can incorporate what we're uncovering in our own art. Since arriving here last month, I've been on a whirlwind tour of art. I've spent my adult creative time studying quilts and art quilts. I came here without any books, supplies, fabrics, or machines, and it's opened up my world immensely.

For one thing, I live in the midst of Underground Railroad country, and quilts were used to signal slaves where to go, when to go, and what tools to take. Everywhere I've ever lived I've wanted to study the history of that particular place. This is the first home where I've immersed myself in it. I've discovered that the town library was built by an abolitionist as one of those Underground Railroad stops. This town has much to be proud of. It also served as a safe haven for Jews during WWII -- "Sadly, Fort Ontario would be the only shelter in the United States established for European refugees from the second World War and the Holocaust." (according to the brochure I picked up at the Chamber this morning)

How did I end up here? The town of the Underground Railroad and Safe Haven. The house of the Conjure Artist and all of his magic not only stashed in boxes but the wonderment in which he views the world. I have never felt so rich, so blessed, so full than I do right now. Once upon a time I had the studio that was uncluttered, that spacious 1200 sf studio with a separate room for fabric, one for notions, and one for designing, not to mention the expanse of window-filled space for cutting, sewing, reading, and sitting on the balcony looking at the foothills and Longs Peak. As perfect as that space looked, as uncluttered, organized, spacious, and amazing it was, it was the least creative of any space I've ever been in. It was bereft of love, and that I know is what I cannot live without. The love I feel in this crowded house with teetering magical treasure troves everywhere is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

And, back in 1973 when Dan received his ring I would have loved to have walked around those school halls parading that chunk on my finger. However, now it goes into my stash of treasures, my magical space filled with books, movies, fabrics, beads, buttons, and a few threads, or maybe I'll keep it upstairs on top of our dresser where it can corner the spot of attention. It makes us laugh. It makes us not take ourselves so seriously, and most of all it alters our high school memories. They seem a little sweeter now.