I can’t believe that the year is over. Honestly, I wasn’t that crazy about the number, 2013. It’s awkward, not nice to form mentally or on the tongue. I dig 2014, it’s fluid and beautiful and rounded and sexy. I like it already, if only as a concept piece.
I really have had a great year, though. Stunning. Contemporary Geometric Beadwork has been a great success. Summer was hot and delicious, with plenty of hawks. Barcelona blew my mind.
This year also has to recommend it me being personally squeezled by Bryan Ferry. I’ve had decades to adore him shamelessly, so I was well-prepared for the moment. The kiss he gave me soaked all of the way into my 11 year old self, it sparkled backward into 1974 and it felt like my striped shirt and David Cassidy and Rufus and Roxy Music and Mr. Spock and the blades of grass on the badminton court I could see from my bedroom with the shag rug and the wooden loft.
It felt like the way that sun sparkled in those skies in those moments in that time.
The older I get, the more I find that the perfect moments are the ones that are really taking precedence in my own memory, my own impression of my life. They weave together in a net of light that I can always see, and it’s easy for new happinesses to hook in, to felt in like fibers, to cushion my heart and remind me of what every moment can be.
This week, I’m still working in St. Louis, spending as much time as I can with the boys while I’m in layout. Layout is a friendly phase, it’s easy to be involved with others and still productive. I’ll head home to Tucson at the end of the week for the last wave of serious writing.
Today, to help us ring in the New Year, plumbers are here tearing out the kitchen ceiling and a wad of old and extremely disturbing pipes from the upstairs bath. The cats (who do not get to go out for French tonight and also will get no champagne) are hiding deep under the bed, horrified at the noise and that the dining room full of kitchen. I tell them, “It could be worse.”
In a tiny house full of boys, having two plumbers working is just more random noise in the mix. I’m upstairs in the sunny window, working, playing music, arranging layouts. What do I care?
Everything will be live-linked in the final digital version of the two-volume set (which only comes free with pre-orders); images will click up to hi-res, and things with patterns will click to the patterns. Makers’ names will click to their web sites, materials will click into the Resources section. It’s going to be rather stunning, if I do say so myself.
This morning I saw a link to a great online gallery of photos of Terra from space, published by Wired Magazine. Some of the photos really caught my attention for the level of human restructuring. And of course thinking about the Digital Globe project (whose images these are) is creepy and beautiful.