I love Portland summers. How many times can I say it? Our old, cold house is perfect in hot weather; the basement is refreshing rather than dank; the skies are blue, the gardens are exploding, and most of all I don’t have to work all summer. Whoo-hoo! No more teachers, no more books … no more committee meetings, no 3 am grading sessions, no wacked-out students (there have been more than usual this year, for some reason), no 60-hour workweeks, no sleep deprivation. Time to do what I want to do. Which includes:
- Sewing! I’ve taken the pledge: no purchase of clothing if I can make it. Chonies, yes, I’ll buy, but pretty much everything else (for me and for Echo) must be handmade.
- 2-D Art! I need to set up a webpage for the fiber-collage project – I need to get more installations happening, and mostly, I need to finish up the 2 series that are, ahem, “under construction.”
- Ceramics! I finally have what I have wanted almost all my life. A studio. Well, the makings of one, anyway: space, a sink, a wheel I love and a decent cone 10 Skutt electric kiln (and forgive me if all that’s gibberish to you). All’s I need is to start work. I think I owe, oh three happily married couples wedding gifts. (The shame!)
- Catching up! with friends, family, loved ones from all over. And, yeah, that’s where this blog project comes in.
I have always been a self-chronicling kind o’ gal. I’ve got a box of journals going back to the ’80s, baby, telling the sad truth about all my incarnations – the 12-year old, feather-haired, rainbow-shirt wearing Bingo … the 22-year-old, shaven-pierced-n-tatted physics major Bing … all the way through the 28-year-old, ex-expat, grad-student Binga. But the last, what, decade has seen an end to that. I’ve been working like a loon, working like I always swore I never would; I’ve had major upheaval on the homefront, have settled in P-town, and have birthed the tot who’s the center of our lives. Not only have I stopped keeping track of my life for myself, but I’ve fallen out of touch with so many people I love so much. It’s not just distance; it’s the time it takes.
And here’s where the blog comes in.
Partly, I want to keep track of what I’m creating. Partly, I want to record the texture of our lives – for us, for Echo. And partly, I want to create a space where anyone who wants to see what my life is like now, can.
I figure, if nothing else, L. will read this. And if she’s the only one who ever does, it will all be worth it!