Here we are once again. Lots of cliches come to mind but in the end what matters is someone there to weather the highs and lows. What matters is someone there who has the same memories of who you were, what you were and still loves you for what you have become. What matters is someone there you can break into song with when you are doing something very embarrassing like playing a Dean Martin penny slot machine or a Village People penny slot machine. (yes they do exist and are the best) What matters is having someone there when your babies find their "someone there" and you are no longer as important in that special way. That's what I was thinking as I contemplate this photo.

gian marco y juan diego flores-hoy.avi

MAY it all be True!

The month of May is a special one for me. I have so many memories of this month that can take me to the edge of the abyss. It is the month of my birth but also the birth of my wonderful Papa. He sits there on May 17th with his music, stories and big heart ways. He waves to assure he is only waiting and holding our spot. Still I miss him and have to watch the big whole in my heart so I do not fall in. May 18th holds death. I dare not even think too hard to remember but it is not easily ignored. My brother sits there and he smiles his angel smile. Then there is the May of every year when those I love, love me back in celebration. Wonderful birthdays with thoughtful gifts of music, art and handmade things. Food! and getting older. May is also the month of celebrating the awe inspiring matriarchs of my family. Tia Cucha, more than 80 and still teaching us so much is there on May 3rd. I hope to enjoy life and family as she does when I get there too. May 29th and SISTER all rolled into one. My sister is my friend. I need her to help me hold all the rest of May and not collapse. We are often partners in thought if not in action when it comes to REVOLUTION around mother's day. We promise that next year we will just take Mama out and have a great time. But we are mothers and long to spend the day with the four generations all gathered together for better or worse. Mother's Day is also in May! What can we do but live and love and take it all in and die a little bit each year only to see another May full of more love and life and renewal.

The ancestors

Here are my Grandparents with nine of their children. My mama is the older little girl. Out of all of them came more than 100 grandchildren and counting. Each counting so much in our world. I am one of those as is each of my sons. Their ancestors can not be underestimated in the power of their legacy to my sons. Integrity is of utmost concern in my mind.I can still see, in my mind, my abuelito hiking the mountains of Peru to give help, medicine and his message of Christ to the people.

Knitting Muse Dolls

Well, I just never know how things will turn out when I have an idea in my head. How do ideas come to fruition? I think of all those years of making sure the house was overflowing with materials so the boys would not be inhibited in their imaginative quests. "Hey mom do we still have that old wolf mask?" "Yes, it's in the shed in the Halloween box!" This exchange took place just recently with Vinnie as he worked on a mask photo project . I feel that in my fiber work I also get ideas by surrounding myself with lots of beautiful materials and books. My knitting muse came to fruition this way. She did not like her first wig and I quickly yanked it off her little felted head. Then I saw it, a braid of wool mohair with colors that I love. It was the perfect hair for her and as luck would have it I also had other fibers in the same colorways for clothes and capes. She is very happy now and I am happy looking at her. Now she needs a little chair to sit on while she inspires other projects. Did I tell you how much I love fiber yet?

Life Coursing through!

I love this photo because I look so happy. If we try to notice we can have these real and organic moments daily. When my son and I share a private thought. When I sit and listen to a song from when I was 17 and I still love it. When I still look forward toward an evening alone with my partner of 30 years. When I finish a project that is so just what I thought it would be. Life courses through and I fly. It was a simple bingo game on another new years night but we were all still here and another year was about to start and it was new. It was Bingo with three generations having a time together. I pray and look forward to many more of these. I hope and wish only this for you and yours.

I love fiber. It is such an amazing entity. It comes from living beings but does not require death. It can give life if you happen to have fallen through the ice and need to get warmed up fast and furious. It is so patient with creative endeavors as you poke it with barbed needles and lay it every which way. It does not mind being tacky. Hey, if you like it, it is OK with whatever you make it wear. Once in a while, when you least expect it, it forms itself into a form that makes you very giddy. It is pretty! It is unique! I like it! But what is it? No need for clear purpose. It simply is a happy finish. I really LOVE fiber!

Juxtaposition

The juxtaposition of my son and my past is like the connective tissues I have so often twanged as I moved from one life to the next. I do not know why he chose to include this in his photo project but when I saw it I was drawn to think about it. I usually fall so deeply into the roles of my present life that a sense of mourning for my past ensues and at time permeates its fabric. Part of the reason for this I know is that I want those who I love to know what I was. Who I was. Why I was. Seeing my present and most important identity as represented in my son holding my past is affirming in a strange and elusive way. I think my son looks at me and does see the layers which make up my being. I hope so. To see more of this project go to:
http://lucasbriffa.blogspot.com/2009/12/persona-project-fall-2009.html

I have listened to this several times in the last few days and wonder why it is so alluring for me. I hope anyone who hears it will like it. It is a homage to Peru. I often play homage to my country in little ways such as my decor at home, the food I bring to gatherings, the clothes I were some days, the yarn I mostly buy if I have a choice and then there is the music. I now know I want to go back there some day and explore more my connections with my birthplace and listen to as much of its music live as possible.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=An77pmw3mQ4

Here my parents and aunt and uncle are younger than I am now and it is blowing my mind. It must be circa 1960s. I want to know what were they thinking and how did the world look to them then. My Papa was so good looking and my mama so stylish. Did they wake up each day and yearn for days gone by or did they yearn for their futures in a new country, a new life. So courageous! So naive too. It had to be as who could guess that in the near years to come we would lose a president, a civil rights leader and run head-on into a war and race riots. Not yet though. Not yet.