“The decision alone to depict something, and thus withdraw it from oblivion, means to put that moment in the centre of attention and shape it.”

That quote was in the wall text at a fabulous art exhibit called
“The Adventure of Reality: Courbet, Cooper, Gursky…” at the Kunsthalle in Munchen earlier this month. The show is moving to Amsterdam, which you can read about through the link.

This is what I am about. What Laundry Line Divine is about. What my art expresses, whether you know it or not. I am transfixed and inspired over and over again by the sublime beauty of daily living. This is why I am bowled over repeatedly by Mary Oliver’s poetry.

Then I read this in my friend Kathy Drue’s notes in FB.

Daily

These shriveled seeds we plant,
corn kernel, dried bean,
poke into loosened soil,
cover over with measured fingertips

These T-shirts we fold into
perfect white squares

These tortillas we slice and fry to crisp strips
This rich egg scrambled in a gray clay bowl

This bed whose covers I straighten
smoothing edges till blue quilt fits brown blanket
and nothing hangs out

This envelope I address
so the name balances like a cloud
in the center of sky

This page I type and retype
This table I dust till the scarred wood shines
This bundle of clothes I wash and hang and wash again
like flags we share, a country so close
no one needs to name it

The days are nouns: touch them
The hands are churches that worship the world

~ Naomi Shihab Nye ~
(The Words Under the Words)

Today I picked an apple from a tree I planted here in our yard. It grew from a seedling we had bid on at a silent auction. My friend Christopher and I staked it up, I have fertilized it and tended it for 5 or 6 years. And now, if you just lay your hand on the lovely, plump, ‘Greening’ apples, they will yield to your grip to give you the most delicious, tart Indian Summer bliss you could ever find.

Every apple is a doorway. A tea label. The grin of the old woman in that wheelchair. It is so beautiful.

Do I exaggerate?
I don’t know. Go pick an apple and see for yourself.

All my love, Suzi

Blackberry picking is dangerous.
I scratched my legs today diving in to a haven for the fattest, finest dangling black treasures. I agree with my friend Pearl that dropping one from your already too full fist is like loosing a jewel. That is why we eat so many while picking. Those jewels are never lost. Those interior spots are like sacred holy places to me, cloistered from the hubbub of life on the edge of the berry patch, those inside places call me further in to the bracken.

It is a hot night, not feeling like stirring the jam pot til morning.
Maybe I will freeze this latest batch of berries.

Do you have altars around your house? Nature tables? Shrines?
This stands for a call for entries of photographs or scanned images sent to me of the altars you have around your home or your outdoor space…I am thinking of the little bowl I have for the fairies by my tomato patch, set under a steel Kokopelli sculpture, all in view of the kitchen sink.

Kitchen counter altars. Desk altars. Where you go to pray. Where you stop for sustenance. Some locale in your home that holds a sense of reverence and desire through the objects you place there. These places call us to pause, to hold our desires or prayers or loved ones in our most loving awareness. All this time my Mom has been in the nursing home, I keep pulling out her letters or photos or things she gave me to set on one of my altars, just to keep me in mind of her wholeness. She may be diminishing to Alzheimer’s but my memory of her is alive with detail and joy. My friends who ascribe to the art of Feng Shui have altars all over their homes. My Catholic friends have shrines in their yards with the Blessed Virgin in pretty gardens, sometimes in the bath tub.

I consider the bath tub a sacred spot in my home.

I invite you to share with us here on the Laundry Line a view of your altar or sacred space. Describe it in words or images. I will create a post here on the Line by next Thursday August 5.
Submissions may be sent to laundrylinedivine@gmail.com by Wednesday August 4.

“As I go down to the river to pray…”

All my love, Suzi