For the moment

April 22, 2017

The studio clean-up continues

I've hit upon the most scathingly brilliant idea to help me clean up the hideous studio mess. Instead of saving everything and trying to figure out how to store all the stuff I gather and hoard, I'll create nice little collections for other people to use in making their art! Good idea, right? I'm calling them Collections of Curiosities and the first five are up for sale at my WickedWaifVINTAGE Etsy shop. You can click on any of the pictures to see its listing in the Etsy shop.

Hear ye, Hear ye ... the latest cancer update

The incredibly good news: it appears the tumors have been eradicated, i.e. I do not now have any evidence of cancer. I hesitate to write it, say it, believe it. I do not want to tempt the fates. I didn't even realize the doctors had told me this wonderful news because they are so low key about it. It wasn't until a month or so later that I understood because I mentioned "my cancer" and they told me (again) that there were no tumors left. I was gobsmacked. I kept making them repeat it. I asked, where were the cake and balloons? They smiled their laid back smiles. I love my doctors.

Some less pleasant stuff: A common side effect of the treatment is called Radiation Pneumonitis, and I have it. Geeze Louise, it was hard to believe the good news when I was still coughing and breathless. Now I take a lot of pills and elixirs to treat the inflammation in my lungs and I'm slowly getting better, but some of the pills, probably the Prednisone (a steroid), caused their own hideous side effects which I suffered with, maybe for too long, because my situation became worse and worse until I landed in the ER recently, in agonizing pain. It turns out I have ulcers in my esophagus and a lot of inflammation there and elsewhere. But, I’ve stopped taking the Prednisone and I have pain killers to see me through while the healing takes place.

For the moment

And then there is this: I recently saw a pulmonologist in Danbury, someone new to me. He said, "You’re clear of cancer, for the moment." For the moment? Did he really have to add for the moment? That bugs me. Hopefully, it will slide into that place where so many memories get lost, but for now, I just can’t quite shake it.

The warm weather is on its way ...

I'm hoping I'll get more involved in the dying process ... that's as in DYE not DIE. (Macabre humor.)

Linen & Laughter

March 22, 2017

LINEN LOVE - My darling daughter gave me this sweet selection of linen kitchen towels from Not Perfect Linen. Lucky me - in so many ways.

WORK IN PROGRESS - Recycled linen and vintage lace ... I had set it aside, feeling uncertain about what it would be, but now I know. I'm very psyched to get on with it, now that I know where it is headed.

LOLOLOLOL (apologies to Ellen, who doesn't like the LOL thing) - I was experimenting with the bread machine. My intention was to make Cinnamon-Raisin Bread, but I neglected to put the raisins in at the proper time. In a misguided effort to correct my mistake, I added them way too late in the process, thus creating a "new" baked good: Raisin-Studded Cinnamon Bread.

SOMETHING I'VE LEARNED ALONG THE WAY - As you get older, all your juices start drying up and so you don't really need to shower as often. At least that's what older people think and believe ... which is why older people smell funny.

Such a secret place

March 3, 2017

Something precious arrived recently: a textile woven by Susan Johnson of Avalanche Looms. Spilled Milk, Half-empty or Half-full is the title of this small textile. It is one of a series Susan calls crying towels. She says they are "about our human experience of sorrow. Our human tears flow for many reasons, from slicing onions, or small frustrations, or physical or psychic pain. Some tears are for hard things, that can't be changed. These towels are suitable for all occasions of crying, made with sympathy and compassion for our shared human condition."

It took my breath away when I opened the small parcel that arrived in my mailbox. It is lovely beyond words. Adeline, Bill and I spent a good amount of time admiring it and discussing the many ways in which it might be displayed. It was quite pleasing to see both of them have such genuine appreciation for this beautiful handwork.

I’ve admired Susan’s work for years and now I've finally managed to acquire a piece. And am I now feeling satisfied? No. I want more!

I’ve been experimenting with the No-Knead Bread recipe. I finally have a nice shape figured out but the flavor is lacking. It’s not bad, but it also is not awesome. Fresh baked bread has to be awesome.

I do believe that exquisite new towel charmed me into spending my day in the kitchen - cooking, baking, and warm homemaking.

It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

~Antoine de Saint-Exupery~

That’s My Baby

March 1, 2017

Awesome ... Hearing Adeline on the radio ... That’s my baby!

I’M LOVING MY NEW PINS FROM MERCHANT & MILLS. THEY MAKE ALL MY OTHER PINS SEEM ABSOLUTELY BRUTISH.

Serendipity

February 25, 2017

I’m loving my new pins from Merchant & Mills. They make all my other pins seem absolutely brutish.

serendipity . . .

Here is my Moon Star, so beautifully framed by Chris Durante (in Danbury, CT). He makes such perfectly proportioned shallow shadowbox frames for my pieces, frames which never compete with the art but quietly and beautifully display it.

The artwork floats on an extremely fine linen substrate and Chris finished the cherry wood frame by staining it with India Ink and then rubbing and burnishing it to a fine patina. I chose to use Museum Glass, which is a splurge but well worth it. It really looks as if there is no glass at all. People always want to touch the piece and they are always startled by the invisible glass barrier.

But, oops! I dropped it! And it broke.

However, It looks better without the glass. It’s just brighter, more light, more accessible. And that’s serendipity.

For now, it’s in the kitchen, above a fine miniature quilt made by Kate Adams. Puddle approves.

cancer update . . .

On the subject of cancer . . . I’m done with "the treatment" and now . . . what? Up to this point I've been occupied with radiation and chemo, and now that’s done and I feel sort of untethered.

There’s so much more I could write about it, but I hesitate, not wanting this blog to become Morna's Cancer Diary.

I WAS AT MSK A COUPLE OF WEEKS AGO AND, IN KEEPING WITH TRADITION, I TOOK SELFIES IN THE RESTROOM.

I was at MSK a couple of weeks ago and, in keeping with my tradition, I took selfies in the restroom. These may be my last "wig pictures." I’ve grown weary of wearing it. My hair, such as it is, is about 1/32" long. And that’s not flattering! But it sure is easy maintenance.

POPPY PODS :: IF THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL, IF THEY INSPIRE, THEN ARE THEY TRULY DEAD? — POPPY PODS :: IF THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL, IF THEY INSPIRE, THEN ARE THEY TRULY DEAD?

Nevermore . . .

January 29, 2017

RAVEN TAKES A STROLL (detail) :: BY JO-ANN GILBANKS CORDES — RAVEN TAKES A STROLL (detail) :: BY JO-ANN GILBANKS CORDES

Doug and I went to the annual Mark Twain Library Art Show Gala in December. It’s a very fun event in our small town - lots of people, lots of art, plenty of passed canapés and champagne. Of course I haven’t had any alcohol in ages - my kidneys are busy enough dealing with the chemo cocktails.

I visited the library the afternoon before the gala and I was gobsmacked because, as I walked into the library, I was stopped dead in my tracks by this incredible bird, a great big black raven, and he was looking straight at me. I love birds, blackbirds in particular - crows, ravens, call them what you will. And my spirit animal, who showed up to help me with my cancer journey, is a bird. I like to think now that it is a raven.

That evening I was first in line when the doors opened. I went straight to the acquisitions desk and made Raven Takes a Stroll mine. I was thrilled to know this painting would eventually be at home with me.

At one point in the evening, I noticed two women gazing upon "my" painting and I joined them. "Do you love it?" I asked. Oh, yes. they did. "Well, it’s MINE!" Kind of cheeky of me, but I was feeling giddy and they didn’t mind at all ... because, one of them was the artist, Jo-Ann Cordes! She and I proceeded to have a wonderful conversation about what the painting means to each of us and, upon discovering we live in neighboring towns, promised to get together in the new year.

FROM "MY" CHAIR IN THE FAMILY ROOM :: I SEE THE RAVEN AND THE RAVEN SEES ME.

For those of you who are in southwestern Connecticut, Cordes’ Ravens are on display at the Bethel Public Library, through February 21st (an extension of the show’s original end date). If you’d like to read an article about her and the show, click HERE.