thanks for the roses

i just had a kind email suggesting i might like to pop over to

Spirit Cloth

and so i did

Jude has the most beautiful dye sampler on display

click here to be transported...

the [calm] eye of the storm

Robyn over at Art Propelled

has put together a post about

Little Pockets of Calm

which i much enjoyed reading

it reminded me that

possibly

the most important thing i have learned through these 6 weeks of playing with mud

is the importance of centering

and just as the clay is pushed down and outward on the wheel

before being gathered in again to the centre

i have developed a pattern of centering my mind before work/writing/stitching

being still and listening for the farthest away sound

and gradually listening closer and closer inward

until i hear my own heart beating

and am centered

and can begin with a still and focussed mind

it has been a gift

woolgathering

there are worse places to be

than in a shearing shed

especially on a cool day when

it's just begun to mist lightly

but

the sheep are all under cover

so the weather can do what it likes

woolshed time is thinking time.

there are flurries of activity when penning sheep+sweeping the floor+pressing the wool

and

there are intervals during which

one can stand and marvel at the grace and precision with which the shearer is divesting the sheep of its woolly coat

thoughts wander idly by and if one has had the foresight to have a notebook and pencil handy can sometimes be pinned on a page

and sometimes not

there are times when they flutter off like cabbage moths

i remembered a few other places i had worked

the 'sportsgirl' fashion store was one of the early fast-fashion chains

i worked there a while in 1981. the bitchery and backstabbing was unbelievable [Look behind you, Mr Caesar!]

and it certainly wasn't glamorous. each Friday the floor supervisor would take delight in determining which of the garments on hand the staff would be forced to wear as a kind of in-shop advertisement. she particularly delighted in trying ridiculous combinations on your correspondent.

and the truly appalling thing was that after being worn for a day

we were made to replace the clothes on the racks

as if they were new

i wonder if they still do that?

other jobs which seemed dull on the surface had a lot to teach me about life.

six months of picking orders at the Southern Drug Company showed me that there are people who will happily stay in one form of employment [and not wishing for promotion] for twenty or thirty years

showing up five days a week

discussing the football at morning tea

and extending their close-knit working community into a social club that took shared outings and organised old-style dances at the Wonderland Ballroom a couple of times each year

they liked the routine and security and not having to take too much responsibility. i found it mystifying.

what impressed me most at the Southern Drug Company was the manager, Graham Rossiter Gibbs. here was a man not above taking lunch with the floor workers from time to time, who willingly mucked in on the picking team when there was a rush on orders and who always put in an appearance at the social club dance and made sure he danced with each of his female employees.

a gentleman through and through - he was of unimpeachable character, a fine rugby player and passionate sailor; a well-respected and [more importantly] respectful employer. the sort of man you'd be proud to have running the country, let alone a small pharmaceutical supply company.

it's some twenty years since Gibbsy was struck down by cancer. i guess his 150% attitude to everything - whether work, play, food, drink or the enjoyment of his pipe - came at a price.

we spoke briefly on the telephone a little while before he died, his voice was frail but still brimmed with hope, optimism and enthusiasm for life.

it was an honour to have known him and good to remember it

and

a gift that time in the woolshed gives one such moments

very slow dyeing

digging up an old pond [basically a bathtub lined with a plastic pond liner, black on one side and white on the other]

i discovered to my surprise that the roots of the adjacent tree

a rauriko* [Coprosma australis]

had made a pink print on the plastic

the weight of the rocks hiding the plastic and the force of the roots pushing up and seven years of contact

in the damp dark earth

had resulted in magic

it's a known dye plant traditional to Maori

apparently yielding yellow from the bark

and also sometimes red

[the latter i suspect in conjunction with alkali]

but not something i'd played with yet

even though they grow outside my door

they belong to the plant family Rubiaceae

and so are a relation of madder [Rubia tinctorum]

which is of course known for the brilliant red dye

contained in the roots

* this is the spelling i've been using for years of the common name and can't recall where i sourced it

BUT

i have been advised by somebody who knows

that it should be

raurekau

except that in the Maori dictionary [where the link will take you] it comes up as Coprosma grandifolia

curiouser and curiouser

said Alice

as she stepped through the looking glass

a lull in proceedings

after all that excitement with incoming delights it's now time to concentrate on a bit of farm life

sheep shearing begins on Monday

and for the ill-informed who inevitably protest that this is a cruel activity

let me say in advance

that humans have been selectively breeding sheep for over 4000 years

so that they grow lovely soft stuff

that can be spun and knitted and woven and felted

and if you don't shear them, they die often gruesome deaths as fly maggots hatch in the wool and sit down to an endless dinner on living flesh

or

the sheep gets wet [in the rain] and then just gets too heavy to get up

and

fly maggots hatch in the wool etc etc

this one below was just very, very lucky

did somebody mention that good things come in threes?

third time lucky, again.

i'm really beginning to enjoy collecting the mail.

the presence of windowed bills and suchlike

is being mitigated by much more interesting things

today i found a parcel from Aotearoa

which contained

sox in a box

knitted by the amazing Jo Kinross

who not only organised the workshops in Nelson

[in May this year]

but also gave me the hemp dress that has become my

'daily drive'

now with a small 'boro' patch

and wearing its second layer of dye

solidago canadensis + eucalyptus crenulata

and the sox even came with their very own repair kit!

twice blessed, again already

the post office is developing considerable attraction

well worth loitering nearby

if magical parcels are going to materialise

wandered in this morning

without great expectation

and found the enchantment pictured above

exquisitely collaged packaging

wee treasures lurking within

and just look at the stitching on the spine

who dunnit?

click here to visit her pages...

thanks, grrl & dog!