(no subject)
We went back to the workshop for the Heart of the Beast to work on the May Day parade. Fiona repainted her book, because she changed her mind about which book she was doing. Then she repainted it again because I pointed out that she had placed the book title on the wrong side. Then she repainted it yet again because someone stepped on it and smeared it. I hope the poor girl will not have to repaint it yet another time. Four times is enough! I have a picture of her showing it off, and once I figure out how to download pictures from my camera phone, I'll post it here it is. I had reminded her of the mistake she made at the last workshop, painting in her windbreaker, and asked her to remember to take it off before she started. I went to check on her a half hour later and discovered, yep, she'd forgotten to take it off, and it was covered with paint. I squawked at her, stripped her of the jacket and washed it off in the sink; we carried it home in a plastic bag. Fortunately, since I washed it while the paint was still wet, I was able to get most of it out.
I took another cute picture of Delia crouched in the center of a cardboard box, contemplating how she was going to turn it into a blue giraffe costume. She enjoyed the paper mache very much, but needed my big girl hands when it came to wielding the staple gun.
I wandered restlessly from one table to another, trying to decide which section of the parade to work on, and indeed, whether I even wanted to be in the parade at all. I have so enjoyed watching it for so many years. Did I really want to give up the fun and ease of being a spectator? C'mon, Peg, I told myself. Break out of your old comfortable pattern, here. Participate, don't just watch. I had thought of joining the books section, with Fiona. I was uncertain whether I really had time to start a costume for myself, especially since I was periodically helping Delia.
There is another section of the parade which is featuring ravens and cranes. One raven was already made, a paper mache headpiece with attached black fabric wings, mounted on a corner of one of the tables. I kept staring over at it. It made me think of the "ravens of unresting thought" which have loomed so large in my life in the past year, in the Yeats poem "The Two Trees," one my favorite poems. I went over and asked the artist for that section of the parade about it. "Oh, that's a piece that a woman made for another event, but we need someone to operate it. Would you like to do so?"
I looked up at the raven, which seemed to be cocking a baleful eye at me, and I smiled. What better way, perhaps, to exorcise those pesky ravens from my life?
"Yes. I will."
The workshops are great fun, a cacophony of excited noises, color, and new ways of looking at things. It is amazing what these artists can accomplish with clay, cloth, shopping carts, cardboard, paint, whiffle bats, flower pots, plastic cabling and a staple gun. I spoke with
minnehaha K. for awhile (she was helping Fiona paint grass as Fiona was waiting for her book to dry again). And I had a nice conversation with Aaron, who popped up on my journal for the first time recently, although he has been lurking reading my entries for several years. See lurkers? If you know that you are going to be somewhere that I will be, please introduce yourself, and I will be happy to make your acquaintence.
I took another cute picture of Delia crouched in the center of a cardboard box, contemplating how she was going to turn it into a blue giraffe costume. She enjoyed the paper mache very much, but needed my big girl hands when it came to wielding the staple gun.
I wandered restlessly from one table to another, trying to decide which section of the parade to work on, and indeed, whether I even wanted to be in the parade at all. I have so enjoyed watching it for so many years. Did I really want to give up the fun and ease of being a spectator? C'mon, Peg, I told myself. Break out of your old comfortable pattern, here. Participate, don't just watch. I had thought of joining the books section, with Fiona. I was uncertain whether I really had time to start a costume for myself, especially since I was periodically helping Delia.
There is another section of the parade which is featuring ravens and cranes. One raven was already made, a paper mache headpiece with attached black fabric wings, mounted on a corner of one of the tables. I kept staring over at it. It made me think of the "ravens of unresting thought" which have loomed so large in my life in the past year, in the Yeats poem "The Two Trees," one my favorite poems. I went over and asked the artist for that section of the parade about it. "Oh, that's a piece that a woman made for another event, but we need someone to operate it. Would you like to do so?"
I looked up at the raven, which seemed to be cocking a baleful eye at me, and I smiled. What better way, perhaps, to exorcise those pesky ravens from my life?
"Yes. I will."
The workshops are great fun, a cacophony of excited noises, color, and new ways of looking at things. It is amazing what these artists can accomplish with clay, cloth, shopping carts, cardboard, paint, whiffle bats, flower pots, plastic cabling and a staple gun. I spoke with
minnehaha K. for awhile (she was helping Fiona paint grass as Fiona was waiting for her book to dry again). And I had a nice conversation with Aaron, who popped up on my journal for the first time recently, although he has been lurking reading my entries for several years. See lurkers? If you know that you are going to be somewhere that I will be, please introduce yourself, and I will be happy to make your acquaintence.