Woe to the web site designer who waits for me to write my monthly newsletter in a timely fashion, once spring has arrived in the Northwest! Over the past couple weeks, the yard and entire city have come alive with color: the assorted new greens of bushes and trees, rhododendrons and tulips, and now pansies and petunias already…Since this is only the second spring in my new house, I’m seeing plants in bloom I don’t remember seeing a year ago; what a delight! It’s so hard to turn away from the window, toward the computer screen …
I was quite surprised by the arrival of Easter—my travels ran right up to that holiday; hence the Easter greeting cards I bought a month ago never made it out of the Hallmark bag…I feel like I’ve met myself coming and going over the past couple months, the travel schedule has been so heavy. I’ve spent a few days on both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans this month, which feels quite remarkable!
But as I write I’m home for three weekends in a row…What a delight! Such simple pleasures I derive from being here—like taking my own trash cans down to the street a couple weeks in a row, and being here the next morning to bring them back up to the house…
The view across my suitcases right out to the deck five floors above the Atlantic Ocean in Melbourne, Florida. What joy to wake up to the sound of the ocean waves lapping on the beach…But you can keep the heat and humidity…
Because of my last trip to Florida and Arizona, I’m relishing the cool weather of the northwest! In Melbourne and Orlando Florida I was reminded of the hot humid Maryland weather in which I grew up! One morning at 7 a.m., it was already 74 degrees and 100% humidity; that night, when I came out of the hall after my lecture at 9:30 p.m., it was still 93 degrees…
Arizona was a climatic relief, but “dry heat” is still heat, to be escaped into whatever air conditioning one can find, in my book!
How fascinating it was to have my classes peopled with many of the last of the “snowbirds” in both states! It boggled my mind to think of having studios in two different states for different parts of the year…But these southern quilters are accustomed to it. When introductions are made at the beginning of the workshops, quilters present themselves as being from a local city and a distant state, as a matter of course.
My two weeks started out in Melbourne, Florida—and my room was right on the Atlantic Ocean. What a joy to fall asleep with the sound of the ocean five floors below. In Orlando my room was on the 13th floor of the Radisson hotel downtown; my first stay in a corner room with glass on two sides. I must admit that Florida sunrises and sunsets are hard to beat…
Next stop was Tucson, AZ, a stark landscape so unlike Florida’s tropical lushness! The desert with its unforgiving heat and life-threatening potential has always made me nervous. But this trip, I became fascinated by the shapes of the cactus, especially the saguaros. As I drove through the countryside between Tucson and Phoenix, the saguaros especially seemed to be standing with such grace and dignity above the desert brush and tumbleweeds, declaring “WE were here first…” There seems to be an endless variety of saguaro silhouettes; some have only two or three “arms”, others have multiples, with small round or oval secondary cactus “tufts” off each one.
This is landscaping? I was fascinated by the desert landscaping used in self defense in neighborhoods in Sun City and Tucson, AZ. At first it seemed so barren—but the shapes of the saguaro and other cactuses were captivating.
On some trips I come home with photos of quilts from guild meetings or quilt shows; this trip, I came home with stacks of photos of cactus from neighborhood yards and parks. The twisted, torturous shapes of these plants fascinated me more and more the longer I was in the area; the blooms seem to be such a delightful surprise. It is as though cactuses bloom just to prove that despite their environment, they can deliver color and beauty just as any other flowering plants in less forbidding climates would…
One of the most memorable experiences in Tucson was attending the Yaqui “Deer Dances”, held the weekend I was there. Though this is an annual pre-Easter Yaqui Indian event which extends over several days and involves many ceremonies, non-Indian people are welcome to attend as well. The Yaquis are most gracious in answering questions of those who are not part of their world. The Saturday night I attended (with my hostess who has been attending these and other Yaqui ceremonies as an interested observer for years), we witnessed several ceremonies we didn’t understand but felt a great deal of reverence for. One of them involved a large number of masked and costumed men processing into an arena. Each man had a distinctive mask on; some masks resembled animals, others resembled types of people. The ceremony involved the sound of gunshots, and half of the masked creatures fell to the ground as though dead; my impression was that the rest of the dance involved those left standing helping the fallen ones come back to life.
And we actually saw the performance of the Deer Dancers; one was a young boy, who danced with gourd-like rattles in his hand, the head of a very small deer tied atop his white-scarved head. In addition, several adult men took turns dancing to the accompaniment of a harp-like instrument and a guitar. Other times the music came from a single man who played a flute and a drum at the same time.
A cactus coming into bloom in a neighborhood yard. The color and softness of cactus flowers was such a counterpoint to the stones or dry ground from which the cactus plants emerge.
There was one very elderly dancer; my hostess said that he has been the principal Deer Dancer over the years, and that this year he was apparently passing on this role, and the dance, to younger men. The dance took place inside a three-sided shed. Half of the shed was taken up by the dancers; the other half had blankets spread on the ground, on which children, and some women, came to watch. It was fascinating watching the children’s faces, so full of reverence and awe. For their young age, I was amazed that they were attentive for such a long time.
It was truly a privilege to witness this entire evening. One long building had numerous statues covered with purple cloth on a long altar-like table; these certainly called to mind Lenten images from my Catholic background. And there were vendors in stalls along one side of the grounds, selling everything from glow-in-the dark toys for children to food to special seasonal decorations. I got my first taste of Indian fry bread, a delicious deep fat fried dough sprinkled with cinnamon sugar…eaten hot as we sat in the grandstands, taking in the drama around us.
When my hostess mentioned the possibility of attending these Deer Dances, what first came to mind was Terrie Hancock Mangat’s quilt of the same name, which catapulted her to fame perhaps 25 years ago…So I was surprised to see the environment in which the dances actually were held, which is so unlike what Terrie portrayed on her quilt.
I’ve always loved western art in general, and the color of the art of the Southwest in particular; so I visited as many art galleries as my schedule would permit. What a treat it was to spend a Sunday afternoon in the Tucson Museum of Art, and the parks around it, before I headed for Sun City.
A bronze sculpture outside the Tucson Museum of Art; the look on the horseman’s face seems to show the toughness it took to survive in this country before the advent of modern conveniences—like flowing water and air conditioning…
A wonderful find in Sun City were the “rec centers”, huge complexes of studios and exercise rooms available to local citizens at a very nominal charge; studios for exploring any number of artistic pursuits (painting, jewelry making, pottery, stained glass, metal work, among others). Work by those who take advantage of such studios is available for sale. Though most studios were closed by the time I was able to visit after class, I did get into the stained glass studio, which was impressive indeed.
And so after two weeks of teaching, it was home to the cool Northwest; I arrived just after several days of rain and dreary weather, just in time for the glorious emergence of sunny spring! Normally, I stay home when I’m here; but last weekend I spent on the Washington coast, with no phones, no television, no work to beckon. I did take a little “recreational applique”, however! What a joy to look out onto a wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean, across a broad easily walkable hard beach…watching families weekending together, people flying unusual kites, and dogs running hard and fast, gleefully running circles around their owners. Long walks on a beach, with the waves never stopping, are nothing short of soul-restoring…
And so it’s back to work, both trying to catch up with paperwork (I’m thinking that phrase is an oxymoron!), and getting some new quilt tops made for a collaborative workshop Mary Sorensen and I will debut in Jacksonville, Florida in February. I’m creating the rail fence backdrops, on which Mary will design applique. The backdrops feature a wonderful range of light and shadow sprinkled in various patterns; Mary’s appliqués will likely follow unexpected paths across these quilt tops. The students at the Honeybees Retreat will take my class one day, Mary’s a couple days later. We are having a lot of fun with this, and I look forward to showcasing the workshop projects at some future time in this newsletter.
In the meantime, may you be enjoying spring as much as I am; let us continue to pray for the military personnel overseas and the families who wait for them here at home. In our Navy town many many yellow ribbons flutter from chain link fences and from around trees, reminding us that we won’t breathe easy til everyone is home safely once again.