Bitches Get Stitches

the contest preparations are well under way.
i have a good batch of stuff to give away.
i know you’re are telling everyone you know
because you want this fundraiser to be successful.
right?

today, however,
amid the end of the semester push,
i decided to take care of my family.

you see,
my mom is a pretty amazing lady;
she’s the cornerstone of our family,
our matriarch.

she very rarely gets to do anything fun for herself
and so i decided she needed a little diversion.
i had her come up to east lansing to see me.
i made her get in my car
and i drove. . .

about mile to woven art for a rigid heddle loom class.

now,
my mom isn’t the craftiest lady.
it’s not that she doesn’t have an artistic sensibility;
my childhood is filled memories of arizona deserts,
navajo rugs, and pottery from various indigenous folk.

it’s just,
my mom’s a busy lady.
she takes care of everyone in our family, and i seriously doubt any of our ability to function at the level we do without her assistance.
she’s just never had the time to explore this side of herself.

i thought it was high time.

and so i gave her a little push
into this world of fiber arts
to see if she could swim.

she did.

her color choice was superb
(better than mine. >jealous<)
and warped she her first loom.
(look at the focus)

while we warped,
our lovely teacher, kathy popoff, wound our weft yarn
kathy was great.
she’s the perfect no pressure teacher,
exactly what i need for weaving.

with everything warped,
my mom and i sat
side by side
and wove.

in a couple of months, i’ll be twenty seven.
that’s the same age my mom was when she had me.
i don’t think there’s been a day in these 27 years
when she hasn’t totally had my back.
of course there were time when we fought.
some would say my teenage attitude was fucking insane epic.
(i maintain it was merely my not yet untempered wit)
but i can’t think of a time when i ever felt unsafe or unloved.
some moms get hope to get out on parol.
mine chose the life sentence.
i love her for it.

it was a good day.
(and yes, she bought her loom)