So Here’s My Thing.
I love yarns, strings, fabrics, all things fiber. I dye yardage, tie-dye, sew both quilts and garments for myself; when my hands allow I knit and/or crochet; attempted spinning and weaving; did spectacular beadwork and some jewelry fashioning in my day; and collage/paper crafting as well.
Most of my working materials are in boxes in storage right now, though, as I had to move following the passing of my best beloved earlier this year (2025). Eventually I expect to find room for everything and get everything back on track.
The difficult I'll do right now; the impossible will take a little while.
Also I sing. That was lyrics there, that last line, in case it was familiar to anyone. Yeah, I sing. Canto Ergo Sum.
Distractions shift from song to cloth to quilt to garment some head-in-the- lap sobbing and then back to song. These are my stages of grief maybe.
So come along and be healed alongside me. Be at our best and worst, and make stuff along the way. Also sing.
Empress of Cloth
Phat Cow as Bob Ross/William Alexander <-never gets the respect William deserves. Setting this straight by handing it over to Phat Cow. Booya
Heavens, friends, you know what kind of potential we have here, don’t you? A British Bob Ross with a Goth twist. “And ‘ovah theah is thee… ahh.. that’s the almoighty mountaign innit. We’ll just get that covered wif ten——tack——cullzzz…” leans back, tilts head, nods. “This one’s good. Yeh. Yeh. ‘Appy Cthulhu theah, ollways good to keep ‘im ‘appy, ‘at Cthulhu, cuz he can roar up a treat when ‘e’s been knockin em back don’ he. “
The painting emerges, tho nobody watching can glean exactly HOW, a masterpiece of Caravaggian light against dark, parody against terror-dy, almighty mountain and a noctopus slithering about it.
Your slot next week will draw a Nielsen rating of Point 984245. The highest score since the Moon Landing. At least, that’s what the guys are saying. Oh! And
Your agent, Murray Sline? Yeh, he called. He says, and I will quote to you in his trademark Durante affectation: “Sista balieve you me, a talent like dat, ya gonna be a stah!!”
You make a note to puzzle this later, as this agent *used* to be a college kid from Dublin, who resembled this fellow only when the light shifted.
You regard them the one by the next, taking all the time in the world. Chairs scrape back; glasses are poured; Craft Services carts wheeled in.
Oh, Mahvelous, thinks Lilith, a show business meeting, this will be drivel. Let’s get on and over it. Perhaps this lunch’s chicken salad won’t be drowning in the hummus aioli same as last month’s. Minor eye roll, concealed behind the vintage glasses.
#PhatCowChronicles
@PhatCowChronicles
6 months ago (edited) | [YT] | 1
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Empress of Cloth
He sleeps more than wakes now, one foot in each world, says the book Hospice gave us to help us see what to maybe expect. Sleeping near-round-the-clock is the norm since Thursday.
I tiptoe in while he sleeps. Plant feet; left hand to pull the pain and the disease away; right hand pouring silverwhite pulses of light, moonbeam light, brightly intense as a night-sun, yet this cools and spreads a sort of starry duvet made of night-dreams and the love of the woman standing there, feet planted, toes curled for purchase…
The tableau holds a moment sculpted in our familiar space, humming in tune with the sounds of that glorious blue-silver white shimmer coming from the inside of my palm, washing over sleeping Mark, bathing every bit of himself and the bed too, plenty bluesilverwhite lovelight for us all…
Left hand claws; pulls; tugs; with a soft groan of pain, she pulls away a darkened mass of something untoward and unnamed—unnameable lest it take form—she latexes her fingers with the darkness and tangles it as if it were an ogre’s hair, finger-combing and tugging, and soon, when all the sicknesses are placated, asleep or sent away, Pete Gabriel’s SeeMeABigWoman.
Memory of past and future ride beside me. Be strong, my love .
8 months ago (edited) | [YT] | 1
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Empress of Cloth
Hospital bed now.
But spirit is are high; love is strong; bonds beyond heartbreak.
We turn the pages as slowly as we can.
9 months ago | [YT] | 1
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Empress of Cloth
This has been the hardest year of my life. So far. I’m hyper-aware of the whole “trauma-dump” thing and how people seem to hate that; but I gotta get it said somehow, and the commonlaw inlaws… well… not sure how far I’m safe trusting them.
So bear with me as I navigate these choppy scary waters alongside Best Beloved, as we help him die (I guess?) and then somehow help me live through it and beyond.
I appreciate the company; the support; the swat on the backside when necessary; community.
1 year ago | [YT] | 1
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Empress of Cloth
It’s Friday, Eighth of March, and Beloved is a week into feeding tube success.
He’s gained 4 pounds, according to our scales. Can I hear Hosannas?
Compare and contrast this news to that gained from Oncologist, Dr. Ingmar Bergman.
The nightmares that used to wake me with a yell, or in a puddle of sweat (yes, I promise you, it’s sweat), well they had to do with Monsters from the Abyss. But the more recent ones… oh my… fragments only, but I remember little me before a massive shadowy..tribunal.. of some kind maybe…and I’m pleading for his life. “It took me 45 years to find him; please don’t take him away from me…” something like that.
I don’t want to picture a life without Beloved, because that wasn’t the plan, dammit. There wasn’t ever a Plan B here, let alone plans C-Z.
So. I’m putting it on the Intrawebs, in case the Ethereals pick it up and send…I don’t know…Cancer Healing Stuff our way, so I don’t have to lose Beloved.
1 year ago | [YT] | 0
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