Sometimes these days I don’t quite recognize my life. So much has changed in the past year, with my father’s passing, our move to Arboretum Cohousing, and the war in the Middle East. Also today, December 24th, had a high temperature of 51 degrees Fahrenheit. The strange foggy muddiness makes bright cold sparkling white seem like a fantasy for snow globes or Christmas carols.
Putting together pieces from our old home to arrange our new space has been mostly enjoyable. We paid for a professional interior designer and some computer software to help us plan which furniture to bring and where to put it. The basic outlines are done and we’re starting to put pictures up and make other adjustments now that we’re living here. I’m reminding myself to be patient—the house we moved out of was a continuous work in progress for 19 years!
We are starting to build relationships with our cohousing neighbors. Last night marked a first—a spontaneous dinner with our upstairs neighbor Sue. I first got to know Sue through the Meeting Facilitation Team, which I joined before moving in. She’s one of the reasons I’m feeling mostly at ease about leaving my ceramics studio behind. She and a few others here are fiber artists, and I’ve already begun to benefit from those connections. The rug I’m making, pictured here, is crocheted mostly from leftover yarn, along with some I’ve spun from roving I bought with no plan in mind. When my friend Naomi moved away, I inherited her mother’s yarn stash. I picked up more free yarn at a swap organized by another cohousing neighbor Carolyn; and now Sue has bequeathed me a bunch of scrap yarn as well that she acquired for weaving but decided was too thin. Rather than just taking it off her hands, though, I’m going to experiment with using my spinning wheel to ply some together to see if I can make it thick enough for her. I’m eager to see what collaborative creation might emerge.
Using up leftovers is so satisfying to me. My enjoyment goes beyond avoiding waste. There’s something profoundly hopeful to me about being able to make beauty, utility, or whimsy out of shards from the past. I’ve loved piecing together scraps of clay left over from other projects to make figures and scenes. I have yet to try my hand at mosaics but have accumulated a lot of broken pottery in hopes of using it creatively someday. My novel has also grown out of bits of writing that I’ve arranged, rearranged, and knitted together into a whole.
A poem I read once reminded me that mosaics can also break, and those pieces can be reshaped into new wholes. When I was in Israel-Palestine in 2015, our tour guide showed us ancient mosaics that had been unearthed and took us to an archeological site where we dug for shards of pots broken in ancient wars. He used a tall stack of hats on my head to depict the series of civilizations that had come and gone, often through warfare, on the land where we stood.
It is small comfort to recall this history as we witness the current cataclysm. I have tried to make some shred of difference in this war. I donated the proceeds of my ceramics and moving sales to Standing Together and Anera; hosted readings of my friend Christa’s memoir about Palestine; testified, sang, and read poetry in Senator Tammy Baldwin’s office; and read this poem about taking the side of peace at synagogue.
I pray that somehow, sometime, we will be able to build a more beautiful whole from the shards we are creating now.
Meanwhile, I’m making rugs.
Read your latest post with admiration for your creative hobbies. Am very upset about terrible suffering in Israel and in Gaza; favor a long pause, massive flow of food/water, medical supplies to Gaza. And perimeter of armed international force between Israel and Gaza in near future. 2 state solution is tragically not feasible in short run. US would be better advised to support a mixed group of Palestinian, Israeli and. international commissioners They would assume office within 6 months of hostage exchange and cessation of most fighting . There is also a great need for wider understanding of history of present conflict and antisemitism.
I am moved by your writing (yet again). Yes to the possibility of making something beautiful and useful from that which appeared to be broken. Yes to the very long view that sees beyond a judgment of “broekn” into a place of “what if?” and creativity. Yes to spiritual activism, voicing the longing for a different way forward. Yes to doing what sustains us and gives us hope, however “bit” or “small” — we don’t actually know how to measure. (Measuring itself may be part of the problematic mindset that gives rise to so much pain.) Yes to the prayer for the more beautiful world our hearts are longing for. May it be so.
Nice writing, rug making, hopefulness. I read Irwin Keller’s poem, “Taking Sides.” I learned a new word: bricolage.
One definition I found was, “The state of being bright and radiant.”
With all humility, thank you, Becca, for the teachings.