Wednesday, April 21, 2021

Deep Thoughts and Other Musings

"te lo dije," by Lola Argemí.

Lola Argemí is an artist and designer I follow on Instagram. But more than that... we are new friends, and we've even Zoomed. Zoomiar. Zoomimos. Zoomiamos? I love her art, and watching her make art. She posts captivating videos on her account. And other posts she shares make me nostalgic for México, DF. It's been a long time. Seriously, muchisimo tiempo desde que estuve en El Ciudad. 1979, when Grandma Jones came with us, and we flew the red-eye. I hardly remember the landing, but we somehow got to my tios' home, and I woke up into a dream, with Grandma by my side, in Tia Thalia's jewel blue bedroom with painted flowers on the walls, and her philodendrons climbing into the room from downstairs. Frida Khalo must have lived down the calle. Mexico City has the effect of keeping its past and present entwined, old and new comingle and dine together. We could hear the clatter of cooking in the kitchen, the sounds of the neighborhood like an old phonograph playing in the next room. Without stirring, I let everything seep into my head, and never felt so faraway, then Grandmother and I looked at each other, and silently we agreed that we were home. It's a mean trick of life that we can have these poignant and lasting memories, ideas and sensory experiences so vivid, they are ingrained in our cells, and yet they cannot be touched, not fully accessed. I want to go back. I would trace the lines of the flowers, learn the names of the streets we walked along, hold my Abuela's hand more often, for longer. I would try to hold everything more often, longer. Lola reminds me of times and moments, long ago, and I am tempted to imagine there is a way back. Tio Hugo and Tia Thalia were artists, so was my Grandmother... I am just thinking of this, now. I am so glad I ordered Lola's print, that she packed it up with two more little prints, that I love, that it came from Mexico City. I even loved anticipating the package, and imagining that it would contain fragments of the dream, of a faraway place with ancient voices, and sights, that felt strange, yet like home.

Te lo dije, I told you, a phrase I know, have heard from my Mommy, from other Mamás, and abuelas, and it's a mean trick of life that whatever wisdom and insight they were trying to impart barely took root when I heard them as a child. Now, recalling the best of moments long gone, I understand, too late, that they knew, they knew and tried to impart... that the strange places, and long trips, the stories, the lessons and moments that were hard to focus on, mattered. The memories are precious now, urgent, prized. Prized, but elusive and fragmented. Oh bittersweet. Hmm. My thoughts are interlaced with overpowering emotions, nostalgia, and I wish I could succinctly, precisely put into words how it feels to remember such distinct instances, and yet be so cut off from them, too. And grappling with the idea that I could have paid closer attention (perhaps?) and remembering that adults tried to caution me, to pay attention, to appreciate, how time will pass too quickly. It's so frustrating that these lessons are nearly impossible to internalize, to accept without time for perspective, without experience, and the understanding comes too late for the years that have already slipped by. I am struggling to say it all, and it's like trying to grasp a writhing, slippery thing, so I am making a mess of it. But maybe something of this will make sense to you, too. And maybe I should, at least, apply this to here and now, so that going forward, I can have fewer regrets, greater appreciation.

My goodness, what a lot of deep thoughts and other musings, can surface when looking on art, when reflecting on all the threads that are woven in our lives, from past and present, near and far. And now that I have opened up about just a few reactions I have had, looking at Lola's painting, I want to ask her, ?En que pensabas, pintando el cuadro, "te lo dije"?
Another Stay at Home haircut, and I like this one. It's better than the one before, when Geoff gave up on my approach and took matters into his own hands. He took everything down with the clipper on the 3 setting! Geoff and Alex have been keeping up with haircuts. I cut my hair off, in four whacks, last July, but now I am leaving it to grow, so is Maria. William and Max both have long, and growing hair. I gave Bambi a trim a few months ago. I think about getting dye and covering my gray, which is funny, because it seems "silver" and "gray" are trending! As long as I am in a nostalgic mood anyway, I'll say, I really miss having long braids, that I could pull over my head and pin into a crown, like I did when I was much younger.
Would you look at these beautiful embroidery hoops? And so many, too! Susie was clearing space, and making donations when she saw all the sewing I've been doing, that's when she messaged me, asking if I could use more hoops? Her gift is what got me thinking, again, of how much I miss exhibiting at Maker Faires, sharing what we make, and teaching crafts, and STEM skills. I would love to bring all of these hoops to an event and share embroidery, teach someone how to make French knots, and create a stitched copy of a drawing. I miss the enthusiasm and eagerness people bring to a Maker Faire, connecting with someone that has always wanted to learn how to do that___! Susie and I met at a Maker Faire, and I miss making connections like that, building new friendships, like the ones with Nedda, and Enchanted Leaves, and Stephania, and Gever Tulley. In fact, some of those friendships, began through truly random Make a family reading our Making Blog, Benevolent Order of Makers, then, coincidentaly, moving from New York, and becoming our neighbors in California, and dear friends... Hello, Ido, Leslie, Simon, Bex and Spencer! Ah, more threads and connections. It's so nice to have these good thoughts, and ties, streaming through my head.
We have been busy busy busy, and before I spend more than half the day posting to the blog, I want to get back to some of what we have been up to... like moving furniture, painting, cleaning, purging, re-purposing, and refreshing! I even bought everyone new pillows, and some sheets (which Cairo deeply appreciates.) It's good... distraction, improvements, things changing around and new appreciation for seeing things in another light. Ahem... I would like to reflect on this a little more, but I will resist. I think I have indulged in enough deep thoughts and other musings for one morning.


impguin finnell said...

I started coloring my hair at 35. Vanity be danged. As quick as my hair grows I was coloring it at home almost every 3 weeks to cover the roots. Finally at 57 I'd had enough. I went to a good stylist who took out the coloring and gave me blond low lights. As my hair grew out I was surprised and pleased to find the beautiful silver and gray hair I had seen on others. I've had 20 somethings ask me what product I used to get my color. I receive lots of compliments. I flaunt my God given glints of glory! Be bold and go for it!

Natalie, the Chickenblogger said...

You were dedicated, and that's where I know myself well enough... I would be terrible about keeping it up! I am 54, and have not been coloring, but my hair is not glinting gloriously! It's just old and tired. I think of being "bold" but I am not sure whether sticking with what I have is the bold move, or if I should throw in the towel and buy a bucket of Overtone... purple? Blue? Stay home is the third option, which has been darn convenient!