Toes

Odyssey & Bookmark

Ossifrage

I am reading a new translation
of Homer’s Odyssey.
The unwise mother in me
wants to spank Telemachus—rude
“godlike?” boy barking orders.
I never spanked my own daughter,
now at a fabled university
far across a northern sea.

I am trying to plot cloth
across a canvas stiffer than sails,
and I fear I have lost my way.
In this domestic battle of minor key,
I see I am crafty Penelope, making
and unmaking to pass the time.
I spend hours seeking to capture, just right,
the evanescence of the northern light.

I keep hoping for more patience
than I possess. I call it down
with each stroke of the knife
I use to cube these garden-bright
vegetables for soup. Do we all invent
unweaving of omens, claim glimpses
of Athena in the quick wing of a bird,
or in the rapturous seizing upon a new word?

Leslie Schultz

Today, as I began to tackle the challenge for the tenth day, I just looked at my ten toes. I felt beset by writer’s block.  Then, in looking around my tiny rooms, I saw very vividly the gifts that others have made to me–from a tiny bookmark, to the jewelry I am wearing, to the hand-dyed cloths I am using, the art work I am refurbishing, and the books I am reading–all the structure of my life and joy.

My heart was full of gratitude, the writer’s block was broken, and I saw a way to make something new. I decided to simply write about my morning,and ended up with this meditation on the joy of making–of how that joy permeates my life and helps me to learn new words, new skills, and (maybe, occasionally) new wisdom. Here are a few photos to share what I saw.

The Father’s Empty Rocker

Woven Base

Cloth Sail

Colored Cloths

Glitter

Northern Lights & Treadle

Self

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