March 31, 2011 — Newsletter finished

It always seems that we are in need of getting a Pacific Textile Arts newsletter written, printed and mailed in less time than we have to do the task. I know what you're thinking. Just plan a little further ahead. Don't procrastinate. Delegate. Ask for more help with the mailing. Yeh, yeh, yeh. But there are always such legitimate excuses. Prioritizing is a must. Well, OK, along comes not one emergency need that must be dealt with but three. I am a total devotee to prioritizing on the hour, but alas, it often does me in. Well, enough dwelling on these things because, as always, I am rejoicing now over the fact that it is done and the last ones were mailed out yesterday afternoon. Maybe it's like the old brick wall thing: It feels so good when it stops. Of course, it is barely just in time because our "Feather in the Cap" dinner is scheduled for this Saturday, April 2. And before I really finish with this subject, I must thank Jill and Elaine for coming to my rescue. And I must commend them both for whizzing right through the phase that usually gets the most balking and complaining: Licking the envelopes. As Jill puts it, you've got to do what you've got to do.

This is the second day I've seen sun in my yard. It's beautiful. I just went outside and photographed the blossoming pink Magnolia that stands between the pond and the south end of the house. I should have done it several days ago when it was at 100%, but it's still a sight to behold. I'm posting it for you to share with me todayl

A pile of things left over from our last rummage sale needs to be taken away — in my pickup it seems. So here goes the prioritizing again. I'll be back after my swim this evening. And thanks to those of you who've been checking in with emails. Chao.

I'm back, but it's the next morning. I had a horrendous night and early morning. When I returned home from my swim I went straight to my studio to work on the TWW website. After a while I began hearing some very strange sounds near the pickup and the garage. It sounded like large person movements and I became uncharacteristically spooked. We know that there are occasional wildcats prowling all over our area and suddenly the distance between my studio and the front door of the house began to seem like a scary thing. I just couldn't get a grasp on what the sounds could mean other than someone rummaging around with the things in the back of the pickup. If that were so, I didn't want to go out and strowl past this mystery being. This is very unusual for me but my instincts told me to call a nearby male friend to come with a flashlight ( which I also didn't have on that side of the open spaces). The friend put his day clothes back on with lightning speed and appeared in the suspect area with large flashlight. We looked around and saw nothing and he escorted me to my front door and left. When I looked around the inside of the house I couldn't find Latte and my heart and emotions took a nose dive. I found a flashlight and looked all around the outside of the house including the fenceline and the pond. Nothing. After about twenty more trips around the yard with Bobby (our Mexican wonder dog) I finally had no choice but to think that she had wondered off and been discovered by a predator. She is 15, almost blind and can't hear. But ordinarily she gets along fine and with the help of a little aspirin and glucosamine, she is quite amazing. I turned on the light in the wood shed breezeway as well as all the house porch lights. Making sure that there was light in the living room and that all the doors were left ajar, i reluctantly went to bed. Bill called to see if all was well and I had to tell him the answer was no.

Through the night I got up and checked all her nesting places and went back to bed more and more in the dumps. Woke up thinking about how many people in Fort Bragg are in mourning over the loss of their friends from Otsuchi, Japan. Fort Bragg and Otsuchi are sister cities and their children and city leaders have had many heartwarming exchanges and visits. My heart goes out to those in Fort Bragg and Otsuchi who are feeling this painful, unfathomable loss.

Between Otsuchi and no Latte, life was looking very dark this morning. Then! I speculated one more time what the answer might be. The one place I hadn't looked was the interior of the garage. I began thinking that those strange, unrecognizable noises could have been made by a dog trying to find a way out of that space. Carlos and I had each gone into the garage earlier so there was just a wee possibility. I ran out to the garage door (carefully, because that had been the scene of my first bad fall after Skip died), and tried to open it. Something was obstructing it and I had to force the door open. OUT POPPED LATTE! I have never experienced

such a positive mood change. We embraced each other an then she went leaping around outside with Bobby in hot pursuit. What Joy!

There is much on my plate and with that tragedy unfolding I was wondering how I was going to go on and do the things that must be done this weekend for PTA and the Feather in the Cap dinner and auction on Saturday. Thank all the gods for the positive mood change. And then there is going to be the need to engage a contractor to rebuild the south walls of each of the new rooms at Alger Street. That will have to be the subject for another day.

Love hearing from you all. Have a great weekend. If you're up here, come to the open house, potluck and auction. I always dread getting ready for it and I feel shy doing the auctioneering. But then I do it and have a ball. It's one of the most comical evenings of the year. Bye again.

Monday, March 21, 2011 — Light as a feather

Well, that's not me we're talking about, even though I am beginning to lose weight. It's my new Mac Air I'm writing to you on at this moment. I had quite a weekend. I guess you'd better add "weatherwise" to that declaration.

My plan was to drive down to Marina Bay Friday, stay overnight and leave Saturday morning for Deborah's hosting of Tapestry Weavers West. I was really looking forward to it and had all kinds of things to talk to members about because I am now working on the web site for TWW. It is still in its infancy, but in a few weeks it should really be up and running with some useful content that Alex and Jan have begun to send me.

Thursday night before my planned departure I was awakened numerous times by violent cracking and lighting up of the sky. I can't remember hearing such big thunder except maybe in the old days of summer afternoon storms at Echo Lake. We don't seem to get that same consistent weather pattern up there any more. Anyway, these were big, "wake you up" thunder and lightning cracks, so close together it was no use trying to count. So I was a little sleepy by Friday morning but rose to do all the errands and arrangement making for our Alger Street construction project before I could leave. The time finally came when I could get away and I headed out. Before I got to Albion, the storm seemed to be following me south. And it didn't let up for more than a few minutes the whole way down. But, there were moments to remember. When I emerged from the Navarro forest and was just passing the Pottery Makers and the old ranch with the three beautiful rose toned outbuildings across from it, the sky opened up and over the old ranch ( now turned immaculate vinyard operation), a magnificent double rainbow came into view, connecting the hills above the ranch with the hills just beyond. Do you ever get tired of discovering rainbows? Not I. Little did I know then that this was just the beginning of my weekend adventure with mother nature on the way to and in the city.

As so often is the case, I had a chance to see a rainbow again just down the road. Then things closed in again and it was slosh and spray all the rest of the way. When I hit Cloverdale and Highway 101 and began to keep company with trucks and more cars, the spray factor became intense. Everyone was driving more slowly and definitely more carefully than usual and I made it to Marina Bay but decided to head straight to Berkeley for a little dinner at Britt Marie on Solano Avenue before taking myself and the dogs to our little abode. I parked across the street, cracked the rear windows for the dogs and took myself over to BM for my favorite of their salads, a yummy cucumber dish, followed by a nice piece of albacore and some TeaJava. Half way through my meal the entire population of the restaurant stopped looking at the skylight that was making such a racket with heavy rain and then hail hitting it. There were several really loud thunder and lightning hits and everybody began heading for the front door and window to look outside. By the time I left, Solano Avenue had a coating of almost three inches of hail. And it was not going anywhere. It looked so slippery. And I have become a little skittish about taking falls. So I asked a very kind looking man if he would walk me across to my car. We waded through successfully and the helpful man bid me a safe trip home. The first slowly executed venturing onto the side street was quite safe feeling and the icy covering didn't even seem so thick. Then I turned onto Marin Boulevard and it was wild. Thick coating just like Solano and people were just creeping along. I crossed San Pablo Avenue and the white miraculously disappeared.

When I got to the bottom of Buchanan, just before the on ramp, there were police cars and something going on. I barely glanced to see what that was about because I was so intent on not sliding around on the white covering that suddenly showed itself again. Gone again after the ramp. But that's actually when it got really exciting. Between the Regatta Exit and Marina Bay Parkway the sheets of rain and lightning suddenly became so intense it became impossible to see. I and about six other cars pulled over to the shoulder and stopped while it did its thing. I followed the others when they ventured out again for the short way to my exit. There was not much hail on the actual freeway. Perhaps because the rain was sending it to the curb. But as I turned onto Marina Bay Parkway ..... there it was all over again. It looked like flat icebergs floating on a black sea. I inched my way to Commodore Drive and made it through the gate and to my parking place. Amazingly, the roadway inside the gate was almost clear of hail. It definitely appeared to me that the storm hit Fort Bragg first and then just followed me down all the way.

The next morning was a little scary because heavy rain came down in sheets and occasional lighting up of the sky was still happening. I decided to have breakfast at Gillman Grill and take stock of things. But before I turned off on the Gillman exit, I had my answer. That poor old Highway 580 is so rutted and pocked and was so full of seemingly heavy cars and trucks, all bent on spraying as much back to the cars behind them, that there was less visibility than the night before. Just one big soggy spray like a continuous water fountain. I sat and ate my breakfast and eventually became aware of the fact that I didn't have the nerve to buck those conditions and drive over the Bay Bridge and then down Highway One to Pacifica. That ride is sometimes full of surprises on less explosive days. I felt terrible chickening out and missing the meeting. But I know I did the right thing. Apologies to all I had hoped to talk to and visit with that day. I'm back home now and I'll try to get your pages up on a first come, first serve basis. Certainly by the end of April, things should be looking up for the site. Thanks to all who have answered the call so far.

Saturday night I ventured out to Berkeley again in rain that was far less severe. I joined some of my family for an evening at the Freight and Slavage to see the Swedish group Vassen. Wonderful sound. Lovely music and a thoroughly entertaining evening. Last night I had a delicious dinner with Mike, Jenny, Chuck and Leah. Today I cleaned the town house and picked up my new Mac Air. And I can now tell you that by the end of this little bit of using it for the blog, I am thoroughly convinced I made the right choice by buying this little eleven inch beauty. It's a real computer as opposed to the iPad. And yet it is a feather weight. I just became completely tired of trying to travel with that big fifteen incher. The old one is most likely destined to help solve the computer shortage at Pacific Textile Arts.

Fun to go down to the old homeland and haunts, but, Oh so good to be back in Paradise.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011 — A state of disbelief

My heart is breaking as I see images on CNN of Japan in this deadly crisis. In between showing us the most unbelievable pictures of the tsunami surges with all their high powered, unbelievable destruction, the reporter of the moment tells us there is another horrific emergency regarding the events at the six nuclear installations that have been displaying explosions, fires, meltdowns and who know what else.

This morning the Press Democrat had a firstfront page photo of a man responding to a new tsunami warning, carrying his baby daughter who had just been found and rescued. It sounds like facts are not being issued by the nuclear company in charge. American journalists are indulging in rapid fire announcements and questioning about the workers who were until a few minutes ago the only people left at the site of the six reactors. They believe they have

received news that those last 50 workers have now been withdrawn from the scene at the Fukushima Diachi reactor site. As one journalist said from New York, "There's nobody left running the store." They are saying that if this is true, then the whole situation is beginning a new chapter. It is now snowing heavily outside where the journalists are standing and they are showing the inside of one of the many homeless shelters. Some of these people have not had food or water for four days and the weather is freezing. Trying to comprehend the situation outside in all of the coastal cities and towns where the tsunami waves struck, seeing the replays of the moments when it struck and now hearing that the nuclear situation is increasingly dangerous. There still seems to be some question about whether or not those last 50 workers were told to evacuate. It will be part of tomorrow morning's news. I'm not sure how much longer I can stand to watch and listen to this rapid fire acco

unting of horror.

Are there lessons here for the people of the world? Will nuclear energy begin to be discussed in a new way now? I'm hearing a fast moving summary and review of the events from the first moments of the earthquake to the present. This mixture of the events caused by Mother Nature to the effects they have had on man made situations such as placing six different nuclear reactors in one coastal location in close proximity to each other. Wind conditions and the importance of such are now being discussed. I'm beginning to notice some repetition in their presentation of the facts. I think it's time for me to sign off from this display until tomorrow morning.

All day today three of us have been working down at Pacific Textile Arts on the two new (old) buildings that form our little campus. Stefan finished laying the Baltic Birch plywood flooring in the second half of the future libra

ry building. I spent the day filling nail holes and the cracks between boards with wood filler. My knees were killing me when I finally called it a day. Sandra came after lunch and spent the afternoon rolling paint onto the walls of the larger classroom. She finished the job that she and Jacob had begun the day before. Tomorrow Stefan will bring me his sander and I may avoid having to be on the floor on my knees again. until I apply the filler to the second half of the library building floor. This too will pass. We are going to have a lovely little classroom situation when this work is completed. It has been raining like crazy

all day and the courtyard area between the buildings was a lake when I left. Just imagine tomorrow. This rain is expected to continue until at least Sunday. The need for more rock and gravel is becoming increasingly apparent every hour.

I don't intend to stay around until Sunday. I'm going to attend the Tapestry Weavers West meeting in Pacifica on Saturday and then go to Berkeley to hear the Swedish group Vassen at the Freight and Salvage. Lots of music happening in the next week or so in my

world. Jim and Judy Tarbel are hosting a musical event on March 26. Mike, Leah and Julian are coming to Mendocino to perform at a Mendocino Stories event being planned by Patty and Max. It will feature friends reading some of Skip's stories and be finished with a musical set by Mike and group. This will take place at the Mendocino Hotel on the night of April 15, just before I leave for a short visit with Steve, Susan and Mira in Italy. Before that happens, we'll hold our annual "Feather In the Cap" dinner, auction and open house at Pacific Textile Arts on April 2. Please think about joining us for that event. Sound like a lot going on since I returned from Mexico? When I think about it, I begin missing El Tuito.

Friday, March 11, 2011 — Another village day remembered

The second day that we traveled to outlying villages with Eric proved to be every bit as interesting as the first. We first visited Abigail and her mother at their family studio and show room. I have already shown you a picture of the Mama weaving with a rigid heddle while sitting on the rock floor of the courtyard. I was prepared to refrain from purchasing anything this day because I had lost my head a bit the day we went to Teotitlan. Then Abigail began showing us exquisite bands showing all their traditional animal, gods, plants and other images passed down from generation to generation. One finely woven black and red one ( never have been my colors) captivated me so much I broke my bank to be able to purchase it. I didn't have the money, but Abigail sells in a Oaxaca tienda most days and they take credit cards there. This turned out to be one of the art/tiendas containing colorful riches that inhabit a charming area of 5 de Mayo (calle) in Oaxaca. What a treasure trove. One could empty ones wallet in no time on this stretch of beautiful shops. So I picked up my gorgeous red and black band the next day and I will treasure it forever.

That same day with Eric, we ate at the local market and shared a table at Frida's (owned by a real Frida look alike) in the very center of the market with aromas surrounding us that you wouldn't believe. We shared a common table with several generations of a Zapatec family who quickly warmed to Erics friendly chatter loaded with questions about names of various things and words that he was attempting to add to his vocabulary. Though they were shy at first, they seemed genuinely pleased to make his and our acquaintance and left giving warm smiles and embraces.

We visited another weaver who had his whole courtyard lined with large flyshuttle looms. They had evidently enjoyed busier times in the recent past but are now down to father and son weavers with Mama holding forth in the tienda on 5 de Mayo in Oaxaca city. This man was fascinating and ever so generous sharing all his techniques and methods with this unusually knowledgeable group of weavers. The center of the court was filled with fruit trees. All in a bit of chaos but grand and rich. Almost all of us ended up buying table clothes and napkins which were on display outside the kitchen door. Many of them were not yet hemmed but he said all could be done by the next day and picked up and paid for in town on that magical street. When I went to pick up my eight serviettas I could not utter word. Just whispered that I had lost my voice. The weaver's lovely wife attending the shop immediately pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down a perscription of herbs that I should procure and take as a tea as soon as possible. Oh, such warm human beings, these Mexican people that we kept meeting during our visit to Oaxaca and Mexico City. This reminds me of the day we were heading for Sandra's coffee shop, going along one of the big boulevards in Mexico City when a woman passed me and asked me where I was from. I told her and she offered a warm welcome to me. I was so touched and this is not the only time this happened. It actually still brings tears to my eyes. That human to human simplicity of warmth and welcome that we all long for and are happy to receive when it comes your way.

Because we won't be heading for retreats at El Tuito next year, I have decided to return to this art filled country by staying in Oaxaca for a month with stops in Mexico City next year about this time. I'd like to study at one of the many language schools in Oaxaca five mornings a week and perhaps be able to volunteer my services at the textile museum several afternoons a week if Eric Chavez can find something productive for me to do. I'd like to get over that "language hump" finally and I think this might be the way to do it.

The last visit we made on the second day with Eric was to an amazing cathedral and then to the local cemetary. But before that we visited a man who has decided to devote his life to the art of making things from corn husks. He is completely self taught and incredibly creative. This seemed so appropriate for this group of corn oriented weavers. This lovely man who is totally dedicated to his art and craft, showed us some of his prize winning artifacts and then took us back outside to demonstrate his dexterity at creating objects from ordinary corn husks. He had lots of sample "people" and I bought a little man with a basket offering in front of him. This stimulated a run of interest in his people and this generous man began giving all sorts of things away to people in our group. He finished by creating flowers with stems from three or four colors of huskes and proceeded to give them to some of us. Three of them were lovingly given to Yael by members of our group the night we went out to dinner with Eric Chavez and Anna Paula, the director of the textile museum.

As I think about those days down south and have just received a call from a young man who is helping me prepare the walls of our new studios at Pacific Textile Arts so that I can paint them before we lay the Baltic Birch floors in them, I am struck by the huge contrasts and yet similarities between peoples in different places. We are trying to create a lasting center for the support of the textile arts here and in so many ways, though different in scale, we share a great deal with our textile making and appreciating friends in Oaxaca. I know the global picture is not a bright one at the moment, but it is a lovely world here today.

Thursday, March 10, 2011 — I'm back and I'm fine

OK, I'm truly sorry to have caused some concern. Candor needed to take a little vacation. But I really appreciate the emails asking about me and checking in. You know who you are and I love and appreciate each of you.

The biggest problem with staying away this long is the question of how to take up where I left off. The beautiful days in and around Oaxaca continue to run through my mind. The cultural richness of Mexico City still amazes me. I actually took it pretty easy for the last couple of days because I had a relapse of the cold that ran through our group. In Oaxaca I developed the first case of laryngitis that I've had in maybe thirty or forty years. I can practically never remember having had a case like this where my voice disappeared one hundred percent. The Oaxaca locals seemed to all chalk it up to dry air and climate change. When I got back to El Tuito I also took it easy and had my voice back to almost normal in just a day. I think we all have our places that agree with our bodies more than others. I'm home in Fort Bragg now and feeling great. I started my swimming regime again on Monday and have been feeling better each day. I must say though, that my back and legs feel stronger as a result of all the walking I did in Oaxaca.

While we were back in Mexico City I took it easy and availed myself of the most fabulous chicken broth based soup. It was a vegetable and chicken tortilla soup with a name I can't reproduce and with strips of Tortilla on the top. It was laced with avocado and other goodies and I sprinkled generous helpings of cayenne on it. Just what the doctor ordered. I think that's all I had for lunch and dinner those last several days.

Yael, Jean Pierre and I took the all night bus back from Mexico City to Puerto Vallarta via a midnight stop in Guadalajara. I must have snoozed for a bit after that stop because I woke up again high in the mountains on the road back to Vallarta. I was suddenly startled to feel that we were careening down a steep hill and going around curves as if we were in a little sports car instead of a big heavy bus. It didn't take long for me to figure out that, yes, we were driving incredibly fast down and around precipitous curves, all accentuated by the yellow with black v's lining at the edges of them to warn any sane driver to slow down and take it easy. I don't think I have ever been so frightened in my life. I found myself gasping at every turn. There were only a few people left on the bus and they seemed to be sleeping. JP said we made the trip in shorter than record time. I soon became convinced that there was no way we would live through this last several hours. You could see thousands of feet down these drop offs to the bottom where the sea lay and where there might be a chance to survive. That driver had to have been on something stronger than Dexedrine. The contrast between him and the man who drove us to Mexico City was like night and day. The first driver slowed down while we drove through the lovely snow even though it wasn't on the actual roadway, so he must have been being cautious preparing for any ice that he might encounter. Well, there was no snow coming back but I wished with all my heart that we'd had that earlier driver. As you can plainly tell, however, I am here, healthy and oh, so happy to be alive.

I had a nice visit with the Larochettes the night before I left. Yael served me a cup of Tim's tea with the earthy aroma and we watched an interview conducted by Piers Morgan on CNN. The next day I was scheduled to be driven by Elias to the Vallarta airport at 1:00. Yael and JP prepared a delicious chicken barbeque before I left. It was a lovely sendoff. On my trip down the river with Elias I asked him about growing napales. I had begun to wonder if it would be a good idea to nip off the flowers that produce the fruit if you are trying to produce the small leaves that are so tender in salads and veggie dishes. Elias said that was exactly what one should do. So I'm going to give it a try with my own south facing cacti here in Fort Bragg. You just never know.

As I believe I stated in an earlier entry, Jean Pierre and Yael have announced that they are going to take a break from holding the retreats which they have done for the last nine years. So much has happened in these years and some warm and lasting friendships have been formed. I know we all feel incredibly grateful to Jean Pierre and Yael for everything that they have shared with us over these years. I'm sure it is time for them to have a rest from the workshops and be able to begin to develop the next phase of their lives. I know they will create wondrous artwork when they have more time to call their own. We participants will also be following our bliss and staying in close contact with each other. Time moves on.