Amnesia Why labor with such diligence, in silent desperation
Struggle under time's insistent pace
Bowed beneath the metronomic weight and pointing hands, accusing face
Catching, unsustained, at evanescent dust motes fired by winter sun
Lost within my tale's unlighted hollows
Unraveling behind me, skeins of memory ghost like smoke threading thin and wan
Acrid in the fire's empty aftermath, bereft by dawn
Stir the ashes as I will, no spark now follows
Fingerprints and footsteps silted in, landmarks once familiar, now obscured
So too the ridges of identity wear away
Smooth and voiceless in the echoing vaults of unrecognizant new day
Where once resounded crashing waves of self, and continuity unyielding was assured
But if I am denied the light of my own history
I leave behind the vigil at the grave of what I could not keep
Sojourner still, the unknown fairway beckons from the Lethe of sleep
My last bequest to you: a lifetime's mystery
The ergonomics of crafting: 7 tips to avoid painArtisan Crafts Week
A few months ago our dear Brookette made a very interesting journal sharing her experience with arthritic pain, and the changes she made to her crocheting tools. Pain and arthritis can be so intense that they can actually stop you from crafting (the nightmare ). I want to invite you to start taking care of your hands and your body now, before you get irreparable damage. Don't wait until you start feeling pain!! By that time the damage is done and all you can do is try to manage the pain. I wrote a few tips to help you, and I urge you to implement them as soon as possible.
Crafting is some serious business -it can be anything from crocheting a doily to welding car rims to create a 10 meter sculpture. Some things hold true to all of them, and I'll do my best to cover as much information as possible. And of course, remember that I'm no physician, so visit your doctor or
TapestryThe morning is a tapestry...
tripping over last night's grace,
I watch you weave your skin
and shake out your hair -
soft teal and jonquil
shadowing your cheek
as the curtains part between your hands.
Threads tangle as you turn,
dawn is a gentle lover,
and the tumble of birds
plaiting their soft notes
lingers on the pillows
where your smile is my undoing.