I really wish I hadn’t lost the first four+ years of my blogging. When I started this (as a running blog in 2002?)), I didn’t fully understand how I was recording a history of thoughts and feelings. But now I have at least ten years (not counting photos which somehow didn’t transfer in the early days.)
What do I know? That nothing stays the same. I have tried to remove the words “always” and “never” from my vocabulary. At 65, I’ve learned what I like about myself. And I’ve also come to terms with what I don’t. I recognize some early life events that made me who I am, and these days I forgive myself for those life mistakes that came as a result of those events.
I’m so glad I found a passion in teaching, writing, and printing. Perhaps I’ve left a small legacy in those, something that my grandchildren will enjoy learning about. These are, after all, the moments that make up a life.
I’ve always thought letterpress printed cards should be saved and displayed. About a month ago, I started selling some of my small prints with these wood (white birch and other) stands. But now I’m encouraging people to get them for their cards, too. Give a card and then display it!
The wooden stands are $5 alone, $10 with a card or small print. Hey, it’s an unusual gift for someone special– or yourself :)
I have always enjoyed connecting with others, whether teaching, running, or printing. Recently, I met a new printer who had just moved to Fredericksburg. Well, he’s not a new printer. He’s quite experienced. But our relationship is new!
Pete Morelewicz designs– everything. He has an eye for details, and I love his work. So when he offered to design a couple of cards for Fredericksburg that we could letterpress print, I jumped at the chance.
You can find these locally at LibertyTown Arts, Heather’s, and Agora Coffee. I love the way they turned out. And what’s better than sending a love note from your favorite city?
Do you have your cards? Stationery? Stamps?
I read this David Whyte quote today on OnBeing: “…a radical letting-alone of yourself in the world. Letting the world speak in its own voice and letting this deeper sense of yourself speak out.”
Having just spent a week in Turks and Caicos, walking the beach, reading quietly, spending hours without speaking, well, I get it. And I know I need it.
David continues: “In silence you find the death of the periphery, the outside concerns and the place where you’ve been building your personality and where you’ve been building who you are starts to atomize and fall apart…that giving over to something that seems like it’s going to be undermining you to begin with and lead to your demise. And the intuition unfortunately is correct. You are heading to your demise; it’s leading to a richer, deeper place that doesn’t get corroborated very much in our everyday outer world.”
In these moments, my thoughts clarify and my voice becomes clear. In the silence, I discover what I need.