We have found a place to rent and moved in our few things we took with us. Life has a new routine now in a place that is merely transitory. This is something I have to find the courage to live inside of ~~ a temporary place.
I long to be in our house. I break down frequently, and become hopelessly frustrated in doing the basic things, feeling like I am groping in the dark to find my way around, having to relearn every small movement through the disorder and difference. But each day I am becoming a little more resigned to it.
There are brief moments when I feel that metaphorical sun streaming through a window of my creativity, and I contemplate how I might continue to be artful in this transition. That itself is the key ~~ being creative without roots in a place.
My trail-walking, even knitting, has been put away for a time. One of the things I took in my escape, was a tote full of yarn & mostly all my needles, knowing I might be displaced for a few weeks, and I could cheerfully keep on designing.
But the heaviness took hold and the cheerfulness did not last. It was perhaps still numbness that day I cast on for something that is forthcoming, but only about half the stitches before putting it down, and soon after I learned our house burned to ashes.
So I will not knit for a while. But I crave to blend fibers and spin, and there are a couple of very generous women locally who are setting me up with both a wheel and fiber ~~ bless them ~~ I should be spinning by this weekend.
And thank you so very much dear friends on my knitting forum who have offered their time and welcoming warmth helping knitters with their questions.
Deep gratitude to All of You who have bought my patterns, it was quite an overwhelming response to my previous post , and I can not thank you enough. The selling of my patterns to knitters of the world is enabling me make a priority to swiftly ‘set up shop’ , and in gratitude I am doing so, longing to refine & post in Tweed Chronicles again, as well as All Things Forthcoming with designing.
I will be back soon, hopefully with something creative and artful of my temporary place, and find resilience through the kindness of my lovely friends local & global, and of beautiful generous strangers. Thank you again & again, xxJen
If I say my heart keeps breaking for you, it is not enough. My own capacity for love and attachment to place is wrenching my heart. Everyone who saw your posts has a piece of your home in their hearts, and so it lives, and can never be gone. Little thoughts, instead of being innocent memories, might be jagged hazards to any fragile emotional bulwarks you might be building. I remembered that you had just finished your walk, but I didn’t want to say so. Even now that you have braved the sights…if it hurts me…
Jen…Can you go to France…or Scotland or Ireland? Just for a week. Somewhere different, somewhere else. If you could get out from underneath the canopy of loss and grief, if only for a few days, I think it could give you the light and air you need to document this the way I think you are doing.
Is there nothing I can do? Give Emma a hug for me.
I don’t care to travel darling of darlings… except into the woods from my back door, with Emma preferably. Life is extremely difficult right now, but I am alive and there is gratitude in me still, and just this morning I wondered when I will post again, ending with ” life is good “. Pondering that indeed. xx
All my love, Sweet FirFir. I don’t have the words…..
Neither do I Sweet Pea, but that is okay. xx
We are listening. Thank you.
Thank you Linda, I appreciate it very much.xx
Hugs, Jen. It broke my heart to see your beloved home left like that from the fire. You feel what you want to feel and do what you feel like doing. You’re entitled this roller coaster of emotion. I’ll be thinking about you.
Yes Stef, I believe I am a little entitled to duck out of the way and be sad for a time, and I am thinking of future posts when artfulness comes back to me and I will most certainly bring it all here, thank you.. xx
In a time of destruction, create something.—Maxine Hong Kingston
Keeping you in my thoughts, dear one.
Morrie, I am only waiting for creation to show itself… so receptive… and I’ll be so grateful when it arrives. Thank you for your support… xx
I think of you and yours often and wish I could be there to help.
Love Wendy xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Wen, I can not thank you enough for keeping the board running. I have helped those who have written to my Rav Mail… but you and ‘the others’ are doing a fabulous job covering. I am so grateful for you, and oh… those buttons! I think I must just find them myself I guess, although I love that you want to send them to me. Maybe I’ll let you send them anyway, for they would be a perfect first for a new button jar (I had about six of those). I’ll send you the place…. xx
Ahhh… these photos are wrenching. I can’t imagine. I guess the only way through it is through it, as they say. Deep sympathy coming your way from Berkeley.
Laine, thank you so much for your heart-felt presence… it means a lot. xx
Jen…Everything I think to say seems haggard and feeble. One thing seems certain, though. This un-nameable thing has launched you into another plane of creativity. Don’t lose heart in the documents of bureaucracy. Slog through and you’ll get through. I pray you find good hearts of comfort all along your way. Write when you want us. We’re here and thinking of you.
Terry, you are a darling of darlings. I just have to brace myself for a very dank and dark winter, wandering through hollow lands and hilly lands….that is me… trying to figure out how to live in a temporary place. I am just homesick and not being very strong lately. xx
And walk among long dappled grass…till time and times are done. As long as the fire is still in your head, you will be fine, Princess Little-Silver-Trout-out-of-water.
I was gonna send you a Ravelmail, but I’m glad I checked here first. My heart leaps at Yeats, so maybe yours will, too. Sorry I’m so tardy. Believe it or not, I think I was in a mild shock. How are things this day? Will hollow lands and hilly lands be extra verdant come the next Spring? The land is a beginning, yes?
I ask again…what can I do? I feel like a man, you know, how ‘They’ say men would rather fix things than to listen. The silence listens, so what can I do?
Jen, having only now found your art, your patterns, your thoughtfulness for your readers and co-creators … just know that this knitting stranger (and German Shepherd/kelpie mix guardian) will keep you in her thoughts. I am coming back to my knitting after an absence of years, and the beauty of your posts and photos was such balm to me. May you, too, find the balm you need.
There is a time to grieve, especially when your lose is so great. Prayers for strength, and fortitude, the resurrection of dreams and creativity. You will get through this time.
I am grateful for the link that led me to your blog, and to your wonderful patterns! Hugs.
Jen. I have just read about your loss of home and hearth and fiber things that sing to your heart. I understand from Wenditouie that you could use a blending board until you find the cloth that you need. I have an Ashford 12 x 12″ that I am more than happy to give to you. I want you to keep creating – it is the balm that soothes our souls. I can be reached on Ravelry as cardicorgi and I’m Mod in the Spinning Circle. Please let us know how we can help. I’ve already posted your pattern page and am offering one as a prize for our current challenge. Take care. Namaste.