I liked my coworkers, who were beyond patient with my constant questions. But it was a relief to finish the first day, to get beyond the fear and anxiety that I had been feeling leading up to yesterday. Not that I don't feel the same things today, but I'm not overwhelmed by them right now. I just want to keep learning so I can begin to feel comfortable and enjoy the place and the people. It will happen if I'm patient with myself and others. And hey. I didn't cry last night, which is a good sign after a first day. 

So now is my "do over" period. I have to admit I'm terrified and have had a rough couple of days leading up to this day, almost to the breaking point when I was going to call the store manager and tell her I wasn't going to accept the job after all. Oh Lord. What a mess that would have been. The Franklin Roosevelt quote, "we have nothing to fear but fear itself" has become my mantra. Fear destroys any chance for moving ahead into a better life. 

The job at Sur la Table pays little and has no health benefits. And I'm still waiting to hear if I've been accepted by an insurance company that is less expensive than Cobra. I'm scared. This isn't where I thought I'd be at this tender age of 56. But it is where I've found myself, and must be dealt with. And this is a beginning, not the end of the road. Many good things may be around the corner. 

I've always felt sympathy for those who had so little. I know that I'm lucky because I was able to get by with a heaven-sent inheritance from my uncle. I haven't had to feed little stomachs, or find a way to put shoes on kids whose single pair have been out-grown and worn through. I've been able to keep up my bills, where many others have not only lost jobs but homes and all sense of what a normal life had been like until then. I don't pretend to even begin to know or understand what those lives, that kind of worry and stress, must be like. But my own experience has provided me with a deeper empathy for the thousands who are struggling through these times. My heart goes out to them.

And I wonder, for those who've been lucky enough to be hired recently, if like me, they feel not only a sense of relief, but a sense of never feeling safe again. Will I like the job? Will management and coworkers like and respect me? Will I fail? All of those negative self doubts that destroy my confidence. I've had to work on this stuff my whole life, but each time I take a risk, however slight, the end result has been positive. Getting there is tough.

I wish my faith were stronger. I do know that when I turn to God, and to what I call my angel spirits--Dad, my aunts Sally and Nanty Kay, Gregor and my grandparents--when I really believe they are walking with me, I feel comforted. Just writing out these thoughts calms me. Thanks for listening to my ramblings. I feel a little more prepared now, so off I go. 

I have two pieces of good news. The first is that my piece "Old Growth" that I had entered in a competition for Design Matters was chosen for a runner-up prize. (No money, just embroidery threads.) But still kind of cool. I posted the piece in my felt journal previously, but here it is again.

Second piece of news is even more exciting. I've been hired by Sur la Table for a part-time sales position at their Kirkland store. Exciting and frightening to be going back to work after a year. I'll write later about those feelings, but wanted to get out the news.

Seattle Times who has now turned her talents to work as a community liaison for the museum. Michelle was a terrific host, and obviously felt a strong connection to the museum's mission. Here are some snippets from my tour.

Pride of culture, authentic details, community involvement, artists' conceptions and Northwest diversity are all themes that the Wing Luke promotes. An exhibit such as Ho'omau Ka Hauka'i: Native Hawai'ians in the Pacific Northwest, took root in the local Hawaiian community. Displays such as the garage barbecue with food and music celebrate cultural traditions. Multimedia, films and readings may also contribute to our understanding of the culture. 

Examples of Hawaiian bark cloth

The original home for this stunning advertising scrim was on Capitol Hill, but now it's found a new place of residence in the auditorium at Wing Luke. Notice the rectangles in the center of the scrim that appear to have a thin layer of white paint on them. If an advertiser hadn't payed their bill their portion of the sign would be white washed over. How's that for being held accountable?

Prayers, wishes, hopes. Joy. Sorrow. What do you see and feel when looking at this beautiful image? 

The architect included some of the existing walls from the old museum (seen here) in his plans for the restoration. With a bench placed nearby, this spot is one of several places positioned for contemplation and appreciation of the displays. 

 Fascinating multimedia presentations are placed throughout the museum. The ingredients in this stir-fry video appear two dimensional. Hear the sizzle of the vegetables hitting the hot pan, the scratching of the metal spatula making a quick toss. All that's missing is the burn of hot oil on your hand. It's an amazing piece of work.

Visit the Wing Luke Museum. Not only is it a strong educational resource for the community, it's a great place to take out-of-town guests.

www.wingluke.org

719 S King St
Seattle, WA 98104
(206) 623-5124

I've got some new work posted under 'What I'm up to now'. Just click on 'Felt' to check it out.

The cold and mist didn't dampen the beauty of the garden, and I was delighted to get a chance to see the world through Barb's eyes for just a while. She's a gifted artist who's beautiful glasswork is truly unique. Barb told me about the next challenge that she's taking on, and it will be interesting to follow along with her process knowing what her starting point was. 

 2009 is the 50th anniversary of the opening of the garden, younger than both Barb and myself. It's always immaculate, the sandy paths raked and lawns precisely trimmed. On May 4 there will be a celebration for the opening of the Gate House Village. Anyone who's a fan of Japanese architecture will appreciate the new entry to the garden. The celebration begins at 10 a.m. with a Shinto blessing, ribbon cutting and Taiko performance, with lots of activities throughout the day until closing at 8 p.m.

 I love this photo of the orange-gold carp about to snack on the rock covered with algae. And two carps were in the middle of the pond dancing the dance, so to speak. 

Loamy, lusty spring--it affects all living things.

I can't believe it's been two months since I've last posted an entry, but waking up to blue sky and sunshine is such a gift. It lifts my spirits. What has seemed hopeless suddenly becomes full of hope. The wasteful guilt, disconnection and negativity that have darkened my life over the last few months melt away. Of course the chronic depression that's been part of me for so many years adds to the darkness, but sometimes I use it as an excuse for not connecting, for not moving forward. For playing it safe.  

I've tried many times to expand my life, but then fall back onto that safe path. I've learned, though, that each experiment in living, each journey away from darkness, teaches me something. I've learned over the last few months that I'm not alone, that I have friends who check in with me to see how I'm doing, even if I still have trouble reaching out. Friends that care, and whom I care for and enjoy hearing from and being with. I have a stronger support system, for which I'm so very grateful.

I spent a little time sitting in the sun at University Village today, sipping iced green tea and reading. Didn't that feel good? I watched some little kids splashing barefoot in one of the fountains, mothers smiling and not scolding their little ones for getting their clothes wet. Everyone deserves a break on a day like this. A little girl in shorts, her small legs pumping and her body pitching forward at a precarious angle, tried to outrun her mom and big sister. Little magical moments on a beautiful day.

Postscript: I just got a call from the food bank that I wanted to volunteer for, and I begin Friday. It makes me happy to be able to do something for others.

And I'll be posting a piece of artwork I recently finished later. Look for it under Current Work and Felt.

Sally was the younger sister of my Dad. They came from a large Catholic family of 13 kids, although two died in infancy. We never actually called any of my Dad's sisters "aunt"--they were too young for such formality. Sally was one of a kind. Whenever there was a family get-together, we always asked if she would be there. She was so funny, the life of the party with stories to tell. She lost her own mother at a young age, while still in grade school. I never met my grandmother, who died of heart failure the year before I was born. But I've heard that Sally was very much like Grandma Sullivan. 

Sally did not have an easy life, but her remarkable spirit never faltered. She was a nurse whose patients loved her. Knowing Sally, she was an advocate for them, was loving and caring and lifted their spirits with her humor. She and her husband Pete separated years ago, but neither remarried and they were still very close. They had four children, one who died very soon after birth, and several grandchildren, all of whom Sally loved dearly. Her birthday was Feb. 4, and Pete said that they had a wonderful party for her. She insisted that she had a little time with each grandchild separately. Isn't that something? What a wonderful memory it will be for them to nurture in the years to come. 

And speaking of memories. My brother Mitch and she loved to give each other a hard time about "the egg incident." Aunt Sal baby-sat for us a lot when we were young. When Mitch was about 4, he was acting up quite a bit, as he often did at that age. Sally had had it with him, and told him that if he didn't behave she was going to get a raw egg and crack it over his head. Well, he tested her, which wasn't a good idea at all. She started chasing him all over the house, and finally caught up to him. Crack. Egg white and yolk drizzled all over his sweet head. He was not happy, but what a story it made. For the rest of her life, they always gave each other the business about it. Always in fun, always with love. 

My sister Cheryl is 60 (sorry girl) and closer in age to her aunts. Cheryl loved Sally so much. I think they both covered for each other in their times of misadventure. 

For me, the last time I saw Sally was about 10 months ago at the baby shower for my cousin's child. I had just gotten laid off from my job at The Seattle Times and was really sad and emotional, although I was trying to hide it. When everyone else got up to get lunch at the buffet, Sally sat with me separately and talked about her own life. As I have written, it wasn't easy. She had begun to lose faith, but found her way back to it. And despite all of her own pain and suffering, she told me that she really believed that everything happened for a reason. 

So now Sally, I have to believe that this early passing is for a reason. And for exactly this reason, I won't say good bye. I do believe you are still with us, and will help each and every one of us. Thank you so much for all you have given. I'll love you forever.