Walk to the well.
Turn as the earth and the moon turn,
circling what they love.

Whatever circles come from the center.

Rumi

There is a tumble of information flowing through me right now.
And, in the event of an emergency, please know, right now, that I love you coming to visit the Laundry Line. I am thrilled for all your support that is helping me birth my first book, “Laundry Line Divine: A Wild Soul Book for Mothers” and the ‘Out of the Mouths of Babes’ blog series and event.
I am not planning on dying any time soon, but it is important to me that you readers all know how vital you have become to my momentum. Not that I need you to write or create, but knowing you are out there improves my diction.

FeMail for KA-S 2008 by Suzi Banks Baum

This weekend, JNB and I visited the Norman Rockwell Museum, which is only about 20 minutes from my desk. Our friend Laurie Norton Moffat is the Museum Director. The museum houses the work of one of the wonders of the Berkshires, Norman Rockwell and also hosts a steady flow of intriguing exhibits highlighting illustration art and the people who make it.

this is part of a diorama the Reys created in visualizing a book.

This season NRM features “Curious George Saves the Day” which originated at The Jewish Museum in New York City. I am a huge fan of Curious George, having had those stories read to me, reading them to my little sister and to the kids I babysat, then lately, say in the last 17 years reading them and often quoting those passages to my kids for whom the ‘Man in the Yellow Hat’ and George himself stand for a certain kindness and rambunctiousness that is particular to that sweet faced monkey. Plus, we all share a fondness for bicycles, travel and paper hats.

I heard of this exhibit on my area NPR station, WAMC, where Joe Donohue hosts a daily interview show called The Roundtable. Joe is the best interviewer I have ever heard. Ever. I don’t know when he sleeps because he talks to his guests with such confidence about their work, having read or seen their creations. His personal experience and curiosity sets the guests at ease. So many of Joe’s guests say at some point in the interview, “Thanks Joe, great question, I never thought of that”. When I heard Joe talking to the curators of this exhibit, the story of the Rey’s life as it is reflected in the stories of Curious George and their other books fascinated me. I will tell you more about Joe another time, but if you’d like to hear him at his best, this interview of Michael Feinstein is quintessential Joe.

The exhibit of the work of H.A. and Margret Rey included personal papers, the few of which survived their swift immigration from Europe right ahead of the Nazi invasion of Paris in 1940. The paintings, illustration plates and photographs tell a story of great courage and enormous levity at a time where people like the Rey’s where loosing their lives, their livelihood and family members. I won’t tell you the whole story, because you must see the exhibit or see this timeline about their escape online here.

Something Joe said struck me. He reflected that though the stories and art of Curious George don’t tell the saga of the Reys fleeing Europe, their art stood as an antidote for what they were going through. Art does that. You may not actually depict the storms of your soul, but by expressing yourself, the passion of your inner life gains balance and equanimity or in the very least, your art work stands as a placeholder for your sense of self while all other aspects of your being are washed overboard by life events.

I love the handmade stamp Rey used over his signature.

I know most of you aren’t in a place to see this exhibit. But, you are near a bookstore, library or your own bookshelf, where that curious monkey is cooling his heels until you flip open the pages to see his lively and engaging antics. When you look at the pages knowing that the creators narrowly escaped Paris by bicycle and were assured exit visas by virtue of the illustrations and text they carried with them to prove they had gainful employment, you will realize that every work of art carries the heart and soul of it’s creator, no matter how cheerful or merry it appears.

During the next months here on the Laundry Line, we will be talking more and more about creativity.

Sending you splendid hours,
S

There is some kiss we want

There is some kiss we want
with our whole lives,
the touch of Spirit on the body.
Seawater begs the pearl
to break its shell.
And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild Darling!
At night, I open the window
and ask the moon to come
and press its face against mine.
Breathe into me.
Close the language-door
and open the love window.
The moon won’t use the door,
only the window.

Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks

I wish you a beautiful week.
The first week of Advent.
The week leading up to Alchemy Initiative’s Handmade Holiday Festival for me and FeMail.
A week that welcomes the Moon back in to the night sky.
Looking at you,
Love,
S

I just realized that all the visitors to this page today were termed Spam. That means that no one who really wanted to read stopped by.
Probably because there was nothing new to read.
Probably because you knew that I am six days away from the anniversary of Mom’s death and just a teensy bit gray and quiet today.
Probably because you, dear reader, know that I just got back from sharing my FeMail at the Museum of Motherhood in New York City on Monday.
Perhaps because you figured I’d be tired and tender and not write anything today.

Well, you are mostly right, as usual.
But, I have been writing.
I am on a self-imposed deadline to complete my non-fiction book proposal for Laundry Line Divine A Wild Soul Book for Mothers by next Tuesday.

A few minutes ago I wandered over to Paige Orloff’s blog, Tales from the Park Side. In a post about grieving the loss of her old boyfriend, Paige pointed me to Marion Roach’s Memoir Project. And then I headed to The Sister Project, to Marion’s post about writing about grief. In it Marion asks the writer, as a jump-start, to complete a set of three lists with these headings: What I brought. What I heard. What I said.

So I did.
I love lists.

What I brought:

1. My daughter.
2. My husband.
3. A black outfit.
4. Lavender oil.
5. Comfortable clothing to sit next to her in.
6. My camera.
7. A few photographs.
8. Phone numbers.
9. Surety of her release.
10. The calm of the oldest daughter about to become matriarch.

What I heard:

1. The raspy shallow breathes of my mother.
2. Incessant noise of the nursing home.
3. Sticky shoes padding along the hallway.
4. Other elders, once the pillars of this small town, moaning in the hallways, calling out for help.
5. My aunts saying my mom’s name in just that Chicagoan way- “Joanne?”
6. Resolve in my stepfathers’ voice.
7. Wind whipping fall leaves past the single story building, wind on the roof, teasing leaves into small tornadoes in the parking lot outside the window.
8. My own strong heartbeat.
9. The silence of my husband’s calm presence.
10. All the songs we sang- from the “Weenie Man” to “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”, all the dear partings from the staff members as they came in to say farewell to Mom, and the absence of those who did not come for this moment of gray blue death swinging in to the room.

What I said:

1. What I wanted, which was to stay by her side as long as I could.
2. That it did not matter if I was not there for her last breath exactly.
3. That I needed a break, a rest and would sleep with my phone under my pillow.
4. Hello, I am here. I will be there in 5 minutes.
5. Will you come with me?
6. Do you want to sleep longer?
7. Mom is dying now.
8. She has gone.
9. No, she is still here.
10. Now, she is gone.

Gaining ground in handfuls today, all because of Paige and Marion and the desire to write it out for you, so you can know how it is for me and by the dearest chance that that will make a difference in your day.
All my love and thanks to my writing friends,
S

See the other on my new page.

Deliberation (2)

Constant slow movement teaches us

to keep working like a small creek

that stays clear, that does not stagnate,

but finds a way through numerous

details, deliberately.

Deliberation is born of joy

like a bird from an egg.

Birds do not resemble eggs.

Think how different the hatching out is.

A white leathery snake egg, a sparrow’s egg,

a quince seed, an apple seed.

Very different things look similar at one stage.

These leaves, our bodily personalities,

seem identical, but the globe

of soul fruit we make,

each is elaborately

unique.

 
Rumi

 

Sending you love for the last night of summer,
S

I find it so hard to be inside these days.

All I can think about is Mary Oliver and the moment she steps out on to her stoop every morning.

Morning glory.

This work is by my friend Jaq Belcher.

It is her birthday today.

I have begun a new page on Laundry Line Divine.

It is called “Do One New Thing Every Day”.

I post what I do and invite you to post yours. I will add your “One Things” to the list as we go along.

I dare you to try it. Sit in a different seat. Take a different route home.

Bend down to pick something up. There may be a secret message there for you under that red leaf.

See you around the Line,

S

Retreat.
4 days of yoga and art at Kripalu- just up the road from my desk here in Great Barrington, but hundreds of miles away. “Vibrant Visionary Collage” with Karen Arp Sandel and 11 other delicious women was a huge gift I received this week.

My roster of gratitudes would make a mile long list here, but I am going to share some with you all the same. At this Portal to this Mysterious Female, gratitude is the entrance fee. With it, you can enter your own garden of lush creativity and grace, finding all that you have been blessed with on any simple day.
I am so grateful for the time away at Kripalu.
IAG for the support of my fine husband for covering all he did this week with the kids, his work, our family, track practice and radio plans, meals and laundry.
IAG for my husband picking me up today.
IAG for the sun in my bedroom where I just took a nap to prepare for the homecoming of kids from school.
IAG for color.
IAG for the underside of the red tail hawk, it’s soft colors against the brilliant blue sky today at lunch.
IAG for the labyrinth at Kripalu.
IAG for the women I met this week and the collaboration we enjoyed.
IAG for our trip to see “Fe-Mail”.
IAG for my appetite for yoga.
IAG for my teacher Kaliji at Kripalu over the weekend.
IAG for my friend Martha’s alignments.
IAG for the bounty in my life on every level- support, abundance, safety, friendships, women and men, kids, community, color, texture, garden projects surfacing from under the snow, snowdrops, clean laundry and all the meals I enjoyed this week with my new friends.
IAG for my kid’s health.
IAG for my health.
IAG for all my desires floating out in the Universe, singing to me from across the pages of art that flow out of me.
IAG for breath.
IAG for time.
IAG for you reading these words.
IAG for the gratitudes you hold in your heart and the courage to share a few with me here.

I will share more of the art from my week here.
So glad you stopped by the Line.
Love and thanks, S

"Fe-Mail" art by Suzi Banks Baum

Have you ever wanted to read someone else’s mail? Who among us has not peeped over the shoulder of a reader- was it at camp on the bunks at rest time? Or in the mail room of the theatre? Or at some coffee shop where the luxurious scape of another’s mail beckons your eyes off the daily news?
This past Friday at Berkshire Art Kitchen over 100 happy people gathered over wine and grapes to read Karen’s and my mail. We were thrilled!
We are “Fe-Mail” Art and our show is on exhibition at the Kitchen through April 30. We have events coming up in honor of National Women’s History Month and in honor of you- taking a few minutes here at the LaundryLine to take a break with art.
We’d love to tell you more about our show. We’d love for you to attend our April 10th workshop here in Great Barrington. Or, what if you found an arts organization, a women’s group or art gallery who would like to have our event come to you! Deluxe! “Fe-Mail” travels. You can contact us through laundrylinedivine@gmail.com for more information.
In the mean time- what have you noticed today? My friend Winslow Eliot, is an author and writing coach. She has me writing my 10 Daily Happinesses.

Here are mine:
My pal Kathleen’s voice on the phone today
My ab coach Ari wearing gray today as a break from winter black
The sun all over the place today
Peering through the prism on the window sill and seeing everything rimmed in rainbow
Karen’s voice right now in the kitchen
The light coming through the geranium leaves on my desk
The heat of the bath I took and soaking it up for the day of chilly winds
The sight of my hub at the end of the muddy driveway
Snowdrops
Snowdrops
Snowdrops

Karen and I will link you up to our Fe-Mail website before too long and you can view our prints for sale there. The original show of 75 handmade postcards are not for sale. The collection is growing and I am ever hopeful that tomorrow will bring good mail!

Hope you had something great in your mailbox today.
If not, send me your address and maybe the mail fairies will shine on you!
Love, S