Planting iris bulbs and watching lights twinkle - and then there's mail art

A year ago, on December 1, I joined with a group of 80-some folks who decided to make 365 pieces of mail art in one year.  Since then, we've had a total of 125+ people sign up to be part of the project.

Everyone has worked / is working at their personal best speed.  I'm a binge mail artist; I like doing a whole pile all at once, and I like doing series and themes.This piece is from my Postal Art series.

This piece is from my final-50 series, which contains observations and comments and philosophy of a year's worth of mail art. Yes, I have finished all 365 pieces.  Today I realized I wanted them to be not only finished but posted on my mail art blog and also on the Mail Art 365 blog where all of the participants post art.

The mad dash to total victory was interrupted today by a serious desire to prepare for winter.  I got into the ground the iris bulbs that I dug up at my old house in Spartanburg, South Carolina, which came to me from Middle Bass Island, Ohio, in 1996 or thereabouts.  I also planted the red flowers my daughter sent home with me in June when I was in North Carolina for my grandson's graduation; and I transplanted the monster hosta she gave me then, too.  It did well this summer, but I think it will appreciate the late afternoon shade it will get next year.

I headed out to get supplies at Hancock Fabrics.  The one on Dixie Highway must be the worst of the Hancocks in the country, based solely on the number of potholes in their parking lot, the inconvenience of their cutting table, and the absence of two out of two items I went to purchase.  However, their $9 per yard Christmas fabrics were 60 % off, so I got half yard hunks of five, plus a chicken fabric and one that looks like exploding dandelions.  A successful run.  And then on the way home I got to admire the houses with Christmas lights.  I was especially taken with one done in purples, with those hangy-down lights spread across the front of the house and on a number of shrubs.  The installers were standing back near the road, admiring their handiwork and I was happy enough at the sight to roll down the window and tell them, "It's really beautiful."

Now I'm bone tired, and Laramie the Chihuahua is trying her best to sleep in my lap while I type, resting her chin on my left wrist, which is a little less effective for both of us than we might hope.  So we're off to bed.  Tomorrow I should finish posting all of my Mailart 365 pieces, which will put me back in the running to finish my fibonacci series on time.  I've written more than I've posted; now it's time to prioritize their public emergence.

I know, I know

Yes, I know.

I'm behind on fibonaccis.

That said,

have you noticed the new large

typeface and adroit

arrangement

of every sentence?

I've noticed other blogs

use this technique.

I think it's supposed to soothe you as you read,

create a harmony within you, open your senses

to the beauty of the world.

How's that working for you?

P.S.  We have a desk in front of the big window in the living room, and I just personally got to see a small white barn ride past on the bed of a large truck. Wish you were here to enjoy life with me.

 

Fibonacci 99. Disconcerted

Disconcerted

1   Recently
1   I
2   discovered I've
3   spelled two words
5   incorrectly my entire life. Mistakenly,
8   I trusted that "curlicue" had a "q" within
13 and that "ukulele"s second vowel was an "e."
                             "Blind facts" they're called, these
21  facts we know so well we're not easily convinced that we are, actually, wrong.
                              In northern Kentucky a museum depicts humans
34  and dinosaurs living together. The newspaper reports dragons as well.  A friend who visited told me he stepped out of line and was firmly chastized and herded back into place in line.  No wandering on your
55   own.Walk this way -- their way.  Can such a musuem be dubbed a blind fact?  No. Blind faith, perhaps.  Faith that profits from foolish virgins, Sunday school classes and church groups and random families.  And that, my friends, is why we outsource science to India and Pakistan; our blind stupidity has dulled our intellectual edge.

Fibonacci 98. Fire-engine red roses

Fire-engine Red Roses

1   Fire-engine
1   red
2   roses against
3   a tornado-gray sky.
1   Explosive.
             by Mary Cartledgehayes

Fibonacci 97. Damp Spring Day

Damp Spring Day

1    Poetry /
1    and  /
2    income tax: /
3    the ideal combination
5    for a gray spring day.
                          by Mary Cartledgehayes

Fibonacci 96. The Little Dog

The Little Dog

1   Laramie /
1   needs
2   a kneecap
3   replacement.  Donations are
5   accepted.Cash or checks only.

Fibonacci 95. Tranquility

Tranquility

1     Twilight-blue /
1      sky. /
2      Sliver of /
3      moon.  Good evening. /

Fibonacci 94. Just War Theory

Just War Theory

1    I
1    once
2    heard a
3    lecture on Just
5    War Theory.  "Just" as in
8    righteous.  "Just" as in the narrow way along
13  which people of faith can walk into war without putrefying their immortal souls.
21   Laughter has no part in it, nor does partying in the streets.  Prayer is a companion.  I don't recall the rest.
                                               by Mary Cartledgehayes

Fibonacci 93. The End of bin Laden

The End of bin Laden

1    Death/
1    inevitably/
2    arrives with/
3    surprise in its/
5    bag of tricks. Long illness/
8    or sudden death makes no matter; the surprise/
13  has power. The night my father died, Mother said, "It's just so sudden"/
21  and then snorted in amusement at her silliness.  "What am I saying?  He's been sick for twenty years."
         We haven't been/
34  looking for Osama bin Laden anywhere near that long, and yet long enough that the attempt to kill him became more real than the prospect of his death.  We've been after him since 1998,/
55   and today, May 1, 2011, shortly after 10:30 p. m., the news broke.  Ding, dong, bin Laden's dead.  The caves of Pakistan coughed him out, and then somewhere a gun coughed.  Supposedly, a head shot.
         President Obama's press conference will begin soon, but meanwhile I'm told the body is in U. S. hands in Afghanistan. Amen.
                                                       by Mary Cartledgehayes

Fibonacci 92 Catching Up

Catching Up

1    I
1   remain
2   behind.  Family
3   emergencies interfere with
5   thought and also blogs.  We
8   settled back down, and I finished two projects
13  I began in December, 2009, which took a toll of its own.  Besides,
21  bits always remain to be done, don't they, like when you get a haircut and tendrils are left slightly too long.
                                                          by Mary Cartledgehayes

Why people got up at ungodly hours to watch the royal wedding. Fibonacci 92.

Why people got up at ungodly hours to watch the royal wedding

1    I /
1    wasn't /
2    going to /
3    watch the wedding /
5    live, but at five my /
8    eyes spontaneously opened.  What else but to grab /
13  a blanket, turn on the telly, and start to read the text messages /
21   somebody sent me.  She asked if I remembered when we both got up at five a. m. on the day of the marriage of Charles and Diana.
34   Yes, I do. My friend was younger than I and sleepy and not completely sure why this was important but then the bride emerged and we watched the glass carriage rush the girl too soon /
55   to the altar. Being a kindergarten assistant is not, as it happens, the best preparation for the harsh light of royal marriage.  But that was then, and today was a new morning, with two educated adults meeting as equals.  They seemed giddy with the joy of an excellent adventure. Someone I know teaches third grade, where the boys
89   made tophats and the girls flowerdy hats.  Devin was to take a mug to high school, for today they were having tea and cookies in English class. Everyone was giddy, here and there, giddy with the sunshine in London and the monstrously creative hats; with the colors, the horses, the carriages; the Archbishop of Canterbury in his most solemn tall gold wedding hat; the queen, impeccable in daffodil yellow; and then William and Kate as she was until today, now Catherine, confidently promising to love and clearly pledging to protect each other.  We're not all royalists, but many of us know love,  and so we wake up (even without an alarm clock) on days like this.

Last Night's Storm. Fibonacci 90

Last Night's Storm

1     Nearly  /
1     midnight /
2     when I /
3     learned a new /
5    vocabulary phrase:  "rain-wrapped tornadoes."  Where
8    and when did this arise?  How can I
13   not have heard of them before?  And why?  If the universe
21   wants to wrap a tornado in protective batting, why can't it be bacon, or the bodies of the BP Oil, Bank
34    of America, investment brokers who profited highly while screwing middle America? A chicken for every pot would work, too.. Enough with destruction and the Wall Street pigs secretly sucking the public tit dry.

1   As
1    an
2   early Methodist
3    woman said -- perhaps
5    Sojourner Truth -- "Now I don't
8    want any man to die." Just stop, now.
                                             by Mary Cartledghayes

Pile-ons. Fibonacc 87. Revised April 20, 2011

Ordinarily, I wouldn't make a separate post of a revised fibonacci, but I made the changes immediately prior to the reading at Day's Espresso here in Louisville on Friday night,and I know they brought forth an entirely different response in the listeners.   I tightened the line with 89 words and revised the final line.

 Pile-ons

1    We /
1     get /
2     into trouble /
3     when we expect /
5     life to be a straight /
8     line. Remember, there are no straight lines in /
13   nature. Rather, there are pile-ons and forest fires and orgies of mass movement; /
21   there are fight and flight and paralysis; twisting stream beds, fractal-ed coastlines, wild-hair branches leaping out from the otherwise tidy white azalea bush./
34   Why do we think disasters should happen in logical fashion, at discrete intervals, with allowances for us to catch our breath?
      Was the earthquake not enough?  Must there be aftershocks as well, and a /
55  tsunami, and nuclear power plants' electrical systems destroyed, and increased nuclear levels on the Atlantic coast after a disaster on the Pacific?  Can we not be allowed time and space to bury or cremate our dead?  Can the ocean not cough up their bodies?
     And to make it personal, must the little dog be grounded /
89  for ten days because of a dislocating kneecap that pops out of place each time she squats and lifts her right back leg.  She's funny on painkillers, like your funniest friend with a buzz on.  Her minor disability is contemporaneous with my fellow's emergency surgery for a gall bladder turned enemy, and then the doctor said "gangrene" and I didn't breathe for three days. That morning I learned a beloved friend was dead.  That midnight, I burst the wall of a tire driving home in the exhaustion. /

1   Nature /
1    does /
2    not live/
3    in a straight /
5    line. Nature and life are /
8   a pile-on orgy, a forest fire earthquake tsunami /
13  clusterf*#k.  In response, be of good cheer. Choose one task.  Do it well.
                                                                              by Mary Cartledgehayes

Free Love. Fibonacci 89

Free Love

1    Love
1    is
2    free.  Hatred
3    costs you dearly.
                            by Mary Cartledgehayes

Curves. Fibonacci 87. Revised April 20, 2011

Curves

1    We /
1     get /
2     into trouble /
3     when we expect /
5     life to be a straight /
8     line. Remember, there are no straight lines in /
13   nature. Rather, there are pile-ons and forest fires and orgies of mass movement; /
21   there are fight and flight and paralysis; twisting stream beds, fractal-ed coastlines, wild-hair branches leaping out from the otherwise tidy white azalea bush./
34   Why do we think disasters should happen in logical fashion, at discrete intervals, with allowances for us to catch our breath?
      Was the earthquake not enough?  Must there be aftershocks as well, and a /
55  tsunami, and nuclear power plants' electrical systems destroyed, and increased nuclear levels on the Atlantic coast after a disaster on the Pacific?  Can we not be allowed time and space to bury or cremate our dead?  Can the ocean not cough up their bodies?
     And to make it personal, must the little dog be grounded /
89  for ten days because of a dislocating kneecap that pops out of place each time she squats and lifts her right back leg.  She's funny on painkillers, like your funniest friend with a buzz on.  Her minor disability is contemporaneous with my fellow's emergency surgery for a gall bladder turned enemy, and then the doctor said "gangrene" and I didn't breathe for three days. That morning I learned a beloved friend was dead.  That midnight, I burst the wall of a tire driving home in the exhaustion.

1   Nature /
1    does /
2    not live/
3    in a straight /
5    line. Nature and life are
8   a pile-on orgy, a forest fire earthquake tsunami /
13  clusterf*#k.  In response, be of good cheer. Choose one task.  Do it well.
                                                                              by Mary Cartledgehayes

Anniversary. Fibonacci 88.

Anniversary (April 14)

1    One  /
1     year /
2     ago today, /
3     the surgeon shot /
5    blue dye into my breast /
8     prior to removing a chunk of it and /
13   also two blue-dyed healthy lymph nodes. A nurse had both offered and recommended
21   Valium.  It was my first time to take it, and we got along famously.  I was amused by everything, especially the
34    race through the halls to surgery. I recently learned that after surgery they asked what I'd like to eat, and I replied, "Orange jello with whipped cream." (Where do such decisions come from?)  I offered a spoonful to Michael, a sweet act of generosity by a happy, heavily drugged fool.

At times like this Fibonacci 86

At times like this

1     At
1     times
2     like this,
3     I think of
5    that movie about the sisters
8    whose mother died with her head in the
13.  stove. Southerners, of course, because they're the nation's agreed-upon crackpots.  I came in
21   at the moment one sister, who'd tried to hang herself from a light fixture, came down the hall, dragging the chandelier
34    behind her by the rope around her neck. Later in the movie, a sister says, "Mama was just havin' a real bad day," and those words held such healing that I've used them ever
55    since when someone I love is gravely ill or dying or dead, and I'm required to say to people, "Pay no attention to the tears splashing down my face."  Sometimes I tell them, "I'm just havin' a real bad day," but other days I have faith enough in humanity to think they'll figure it out.

The Salvific Import of Poetry Fibonacci 84

The Salvific Import of Poetry

1    If /
1    you /
2    begin to /
3    lose your mind /
5    in a doctor's /dentist's/ ER
8   waiting room, try this trick.
            Write a poem.
13  It can be the finest poem written in the last eight centuries if
21   you're that kind of person.  I'm not pursuing best on such occasions; I simply need a task that keeps me fro
34    chewing off my leg at the ankle and fleeing into the brilliant sun.  So I say, Write a poem.  You can always find paper; and somebody will "loan" a pen or pencil out of
55    their own boredom.
                Why might this work?
                 From the first syllable, you are in command.  You control flow, the rhythm, pace. You control the poem's very skeleton / structure. You own the decision of what it will become in the moment when you own nothing else but a passion to hear that nobody's dying today.

And you ask why I believe in the movement of energy fields Fibonacci 83

And you ask why I believe in the movement of energy fields

1    I  /
1    planned  /
2    to take  /
3    a Reiki I  /
5    class tomorrow. Plan quashed by  /
8    late-breaking events.  But I've sorted out why I /
13   believe such a thing as energy work is a true healing art.  First, /
21   it heals me. The energy from the Reiki person meets mine, and heat flares; the work must take place inches from  /
34    my body.  Clear?  Agree?  Here's another thing.  Every wristwatch my mother ever put on stopped within a day. Stopped dead. No winding, no shaking, no repairs ever changed a single non-ticking of the clock.

Waiting Room 2. Fibonacci 82.

Waiting Room 2

1    Doctor's  /
1    inner   /
2    sanctum.  Blood work.  /
3    Next step?  Emergency  /
5    Room for CT-Scan to determine  /
8    the source of his pain and why he's  /
13   throwing up old coffee grounds (suspicion is it's an ancient ulcer).  The strongest /
21   pain is the same  place his gall bladder lives. No one in my family, as far as I know, has ever /
34   said the words "gall bladder."  Our organs hum along, unnoticed. His family?  Not so much.  Even before he was put in a hospital room, the tech said "No more to drink."  The adventure begins.
                                              by Mary Cartledgehayes