learning with tim ely

in toronto
as in any city
weird things can stop you up short
 so on saturday morning i saw this
this was quite a surprise
 why would anyone take off these "shoes"?
leave them on the edge
of walk and ride?
a black squirrel was 
having a ridiculously delightful time
doing flips
  questioning MY motives
and then:
there's the japanese paper place.
77 brock
were the workshop was held.
(tim's exemplar)
 working with master alchemist,
timothy ely.
 i love these marks,
 loved how he taught,
his use of language and respect for story,
felt challenged and heard.
the class was filled with very
very talented artists…
 i learned more about a passel of concepts
which seem to be 
knocking at my brain: 
"pay attention, knock knock"!
so then the ride home was
 an adventure
i just love union station
 as messed up as it is
(just try to find your way
after a blue jay's game and a 
city wide parade)
 home, in my kitchen i found this
 rock books
a drain strainer
empty jars
so my sketchbook 
 taken out and examined
a few days later
after i'd gotten over the mistakes,
i had to forgive myself for those,
there are many.
but this little inlay is
a bit of paper decorated by tim
(it has sparkles in it) 
and i played with paste and color 
still unfinished, but i will slice the last
of the pages apart, paste up the corners,
and start using this thing.
the book WORKS so well,
it's a mechanical device for memory.
it opens flat and deliciously.
there are spare 
marks and bits for me to 
connect the day's notes drawings ideas paste-ins.
thank you tim.
amazing diving board for me.
and i like to swim.

plain weave

what has happened, is happening still in japan is horrible.
i watched aghast the b.b.c. footage on my computer (i live without t.v.)
i have checked in with friends, and so far people i know are safe, and so are their loved ones.
but oh my, that is not the case for many. i am attending with all my heart.
i wanted to say something about plain.
plain weave.
an old blanket. two lengths pieced together.
white warp, white weft. weft a bit yellower.
i took this out last night to use.
i won't save it any longer. it needs to be used. 
beauty in use. 
you fiberartists will notice many things about this piece.
i haven't begun to discover them all. the weft is, i think, handspun wool.
i don't know for sure anything; the size i can measure.
i can't tell you what was in the mind of the woman 
who sewed these lengths together. 
and hemmed them.
i can't know 
of the wool shorn, washed, spun, woven 
into a modest blanket.
warm enough for the north country fall,
with a quilt or two, for winter.
plain weave.
my favorite.