beautiful words, bits and pieces

I implicate myself in everything I make, fingerprint on plate, wavy line in sewing where my hand shook, my voice in my poems, my feet in my photographs. My speaking in my theory.

Luce Irigaray: "The highest rule of the word would consist in not appropriating the thing but letting it be as thing....how to let be the other while speaking, speaking to them. Moreover: how to encourage the other to be and to remain other. How to let the other come into presence, even to lead them there, without claiming to be their foundation" (The Way of Love, 2002: 29).

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My garden is flowering in the sunshine. I found a house. I bought two rhubarb plants. I've been printing. My friend will fix my sewing machine when he is back and I want to sew, for the first time in ages. Not a manic period, but a slow regaining of myself.

My house will have colorful cushions, quilts, many pieces of art on the walls, a brown couch I've saved up for, my old and worn Persian rug.

I'll have friends over for parties in the garden. I'll open all the windows to let in the air. You are invited, too. Let me know if you'd like to come.

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I think in a little while I will show you my new work, new prints, and have a few for sale and a few to give away.