Needle and thread – part 3

Music is the chocolate in the croissant, the cheese on the pizza. Music is the daffodil emerging after a dark winter. Music is warm sand between toes. Music is the perfect fluffy cloud in a cerulean sky. Music is a cozy, warm quilt, a favorite sweater. Alright, enough of the poetic metaphors — music simply means the world to me. And I know for many of you, too.

Recently a trio of comments from different friends on the sheer power of music got the wheels inside my head spinning and I ruminated on just how potent music can be and how MASSIVE it is in my life. If I were to make a list of artists/albums I adore, I feel that it could stretch a city block long — and still growing! I also have a sub list of albums that affect me on a cellular level; those that have rescued, and at times, resurrected me. This more exclusive list includes, but is not limited to: John Coltrane Blue Train, Sigur Ros ( ), Nirvana Nevermind, The Meters Good Old Funky Music, Elliot Smith Either/Or, Radiohead The Bends, and Gillian Welch Soul Journey. When each of the these records entered my life, it was a defining before and after moment .

People who love music also enjoy playing “the desert island” game. (Book nerds do this, too.) You know the hypothetical if you are stranded on an island and only have X number of albums, what do you bring? Raise your hand if you’ve had these spirited conversations over campfires and on studio apartment floors. You can learn a lot about people and music playing this game. And when someone makes reference to “a desert island album”, this description has gravitas. However, the more music I listen to, the harder it is for me to easily curate a desert island list. Seriously how am I supposed to be a minimalist when there is just SO MUCH awesomeness? This begs another question, do the youngsters raised on the ipod still play the desert island game now that we can carry around hundreds of albums on a device in our pocket? I believe despite the technological leaps, this game should remain a valuable pastime. It was pure fantasy anyhow — I mean records would warp and melt if they were on a desert island!

I am constantly learning about new music and my continual lament is “so much music, so little time”. But as much as I need music to function, I also require a balance of quiet too. Segue to this pillow top. I made the onion skin dyed fabric by folding and twisting the fabric to create a resist pattern (areas where the dye does not absorb). A cautionary tale to natural dyers: when you are using a large amount of onion skins to create a dye, make sure to have lots of ventilation or better yet, make the dye outside and not on your living room woodstove, in the dead of winter. Doh! Yes this gorgeous fabric not only made our house reek for days, but also created a histamine situation (i.e. excessive sneezing and eye watering). When the fabric dried, I was so in awe I nearly forgot all about our olfactory reaction to the dye bath. This color is beautiful and reminiscent of fall leaves and the rocks of the southwestern US. The surprise of this resist pattern immediately led me to the whole cloth design (aka no cutting) with the addition of lots of hand stitching. I knew that this would be a portable project I could enjoy while listening to music or when quiet meditative time was necessary.

I have taken a couple meditation classes and read several meditation books. Meditation, seems so simple and yet it is a practice that required a lot of reinforcement. In my most serious attempt to start a traditional meditation practice, I took a once-weekly for two months course at a legit meditation center, complete with a bona fide instructor who required weekly homework assignments. Yes, homework! While discussing our previous assignment, I asked the instructor what we can do while meditating to occupy our hands: can we use prayer beads, knit, stitch, play with a smooth rock? He said that no, the intent of meditation is to still both the mind and the body and with enough practice and dedication, I would learn to be still. I sound like a petulant squirmy kindergartener but um, that doesn’t always work for me.

So what is my form of meditation if not sitting cross-legged and still? The stitching on this pillow is a form of meditation or perhaps it is technically more appropriate to dub this a mindfulness exercise. This was a slow project, in a good way! When I started to stitch these circles, I was reminded of rain drops; very appropriate since water is on my mind a lot with the juxtaposition of extreme drought and extreme flooding due to climate change. Sigh. This piece became a wonderful companion on the couch while I listened to life affirming music and on many camping trips where I basked in sunshine, or the shade of big trees, or rested next to a creek. (Okay, and a few conference calls with my camera off – shhh, don’t tell management! SO not mindful, yeah I know.) The back fabric is an adorable rock print (shoutout Janie for showing me this beauty!) in honor of staring at rocks, another form of “meditation” I practice.

And now ladies and gentlemen, back to the music! There was a lot of music that accompanied me on this stitching journey and the following is but a snippet. My tastes are genre defining so think of what I listen to as a giant soup pot with many ingredients. This is the third post with the same title named after an Eilen Jewell song, a longtime household favorite we first heard on Radio Boise back when we lived on the cusp of Oregon, one mile from the Idaho border. Eilen is extremely talented and just do yourself a big favor and listen to her. Another gem was Steve Earle’s covers album of Townes Van Zandt songs, which is as awesome as you would expect. Some new-to-me Icelandic music came into the mix, along with a revisit and rebinge of the Black Keys album of Junior Kimbrough covers. My musical soup will always have some Dr. John along with The Meters because everybody here loves good old funky music. In the jazz realm, Haruka Kikuchi and Meschiya Lake brightened the room with their takes on New Orleans traditional jazz. Haruka is a trombonist originally from Japan who is a badass (I’ve seen her play). I am mesmerized by Meschiya’s voice in the band Magnolia Beacon and her trad jazz is no less stunning. Sprinkle in some Cajun party music by The Pine Leaf Boys (RIP Courtney) and top it off with an interesting Sturgill Simpson story album. Each of the aforementioned albums is worthy of being stuck on a desert island. See, so much music, so little time, so many choices.

I learned a lot while making this pillow. One: it really (highlighted yellow and underlined ten times in red ink) doesn’t matter what method you choose to meditate or practice mindfulness, it is beneficial to do something that works for you. Two: I LOVE hand stitching and will never be without some sort of project. Three: hand stitching in nature is flipping amazing. Four: reiteration that you can always count on music. Five: quiet time is super important, too. Six: this pillow is fantastic and thanks in advance for all the literal support! I have already logged 10 rest hours including 2 library books and a Sunday NY Times. This pillow has a long life ahead and heck, someday I may even try to use it to sit still and meditate as I was formally taught.

Albums referenced above: Eilen Jewell Queen of the Minor Key and Downhearted Blues; Steve Earle Townes – The Basics, Kaleo A/B; The Black Keys Chulahoma; Junior Kimbrough The Essential Junior Kimbrough; Dr. John Gris Gris, Locked Down; The Pine Leaf Boys La Musique; The Meters Cabbage Alley, Rejuvenation; Haruka Kikuchi Japan: New Orleans Collection; Meschiya Lake Lucky Devil; Sturgill Simpson The Ballad of Dood and Juanita.