ABCD September 2020

What a delight it was to be actually at the Dove again yesterday, in the meadow, in perfect weather. Eleven of us. Who knows when we shall be able to do that again?

Between the pines

Some little folded books by Carol

Jane’s blizzard book of views from Chalice Hill

Jane’s “Covid Towers”

Jane’s glove puppet – the wicked witch Corona. Sculptural book in the background.

Pauline’s “Coming to our senses”

Book in a box, by Pauline

Pauline recommends this book

Pat’s weaving. Handspun wool dyed with lichen, elder, nettles, walnut, onion and turmeric.

Judy’s blizzard book

Some of Judith’s mokuhanga prints

One of my many practice blizzard books, and three reverse-piano-hinge books inspired by jac’s blog and Alisa Golden

On the way home, Jane and I picked sloes, with kind permission from The Lorax Patch

Our next (Zoom) meeting will be on October 3rd, and our next theme (after the as-yet-unfinished blizzard book “Strange Times”) will be “Midwinter”. Below are my collected fragments of conversation.

September Dove-droppings

home alone
I plaited my hair
but word got around

domestic science
I wish I’d done more
reweaving my life

we are stymied
silenced by the virus
hold fast to courage

a transgression
to sing to Rosie’s goats
whose bones are made of music

bombarded with statistics
I went back to the rainbow
to reconnect with my garden

I should have been in Japan
I feel a bit slumped
I sort of went mad

what was in the news
a tincture of time
stardust and moonrock

(ravens and buzzards overhead)

how language changes
apparently it’s a cocktail
it’s the nudge thing

stuff we never knew
was all part of the battle
they think we’re stupid

sent home from Sri Lanka
my bag’s locked in the museum
cooking and weaving upstairs

telling our stories round the fire
at the dark end of the year
I could do with a bit of misrule

(long-tailed tits in the pines)

bricked up
looking through bars
of the cheese-grater

slowly passing
crossing off the days
passing slowly

those days that went missing
we had time to notice
the wildness beyond

all the festivals
we can’t celebrate
they seemed pointless

eco-printing kept me sane
making kept me sane
walking kept me sane

(music in the next field)

Ama Bolton wrote this post.