the milky way

Its not often anymore you can actually see the milky way. Light pollution from all our cities and towns has flooded the night sky and has obscured our view of the stars. I remember when I was little and we moved to the countryside I was really surprised that the night sky was black and not orange.

Last night driving to Temoris from the mine, away from the lights of the camp and the mine, deep in the mountains, the milky way really was as white as its name and spanned the sky in a glorious arc from one horizon to the other. We must be in the right time of year also to see it so clearly. It made my heart sing, the galaxy is unimaginably huge and the universe even bigger but we are just as much a part of it all as the brightest star in the sky.

I have often wondered about distances in space. Maybe they are just an illusion constructed in our minds, all that empty blackness between the stars, is it really there or is it going to be a big as we think it is? I had a very good argument once with a pair of very scientific minds on the nature of breaking the light speed barrier.

It’s not possible (them)

But how do you know? (I)

Because it has never been done and we have never recorded anything going the speed of light (them)

But that’s because you were measuring things with instruments constructed using the laws of physics as we know them now (I)

Its just not possible (them)

I considered briefly getting into astral projection, dreams and the nature of reality but decided to save my energy for my own explorations.

If we are light and whatever atoms are made of, bouncing round in the vibration called ‘I’ then speed of light is possible, in fact forget the speed of light and go read Jonathon Livingston Seagull for a lesson in the nature of possibility…

X

give-away

Hi….

I have been neglecting the business side of things for the last few months. Right now I am pondering labels and outlets and how to market my bags and purses and the cards I do. I am not very attentive on these things, I tend to get distracted into the more interesting side of actually making a new thing. When it is finished I put it on etsy and then forget about it.

So, as part of a promotion for this blog and my etsy store I am having a giveaway. Please post a comment about some idea of promotion, some ideas about labels, should I use my real name or use a name for the bags only or a critique of my etsy store or blog. Something small. It can help everyone else reading them too. Ideas of how to improve the business side of things.

I haven’t decided yet whether I will pull the name from a hat or choose the most useful comment. But the winner will get one of the three new oil cloth bags I have on my store. Pictures here. Winner chooses which one they want. I figured I would use a good prize to entice some good ideas! Open for the next week so post before Sat 4th of october.

yellow things

I have figured a fun thing to do would be to pick a colour and see what i could find. I decided on yellow for no other reason than it jumped into my head.

I love yellow.. a rich warm sunny yellow. I don´t wear it I paint walls of kitchens and bathrooms with it (and eat it, paul just handed me a yellow M&M) and revel in the warm light it makes in these rooms. I would probably paint my whole house yellow if I could.

Yellow is sun, warmth, light, happiness, simplicity, joy, childish playfulness. At the moment here there are yellow flowers everywhere, shining in the sun and making far away hill look orange. I had an idea to make a coat. A chinese cut, green with yellow flowers all over it. It is forming in my mind as one of those future projects I might just accomplish if I don´t get distracted by more in the moment ideas.

I found this wonderful book on the web. I like her style. Julie Paschkis is her name

And these soaps on etsy.. there are so many yummy soap shops on etsy, I had about thirty tabs open and had to be really strong, favourite a few of them and take just two for this blog.

Skin Journey Shea Butter

Dennis Anderson Lemon lustre shea butter massage bar

These victorian tags are kinda interesting, from Farouche

Yellow citrine, one of my favourite stones…. from Lee Ohio Designs

Quince, known here as Guayabana. It sets into a jelly when mashed up. They use it make a sweet called membrillo here. really good. I also have a recipe for quince cake which I took with me from Ireland to try. I will try it soon I think and let ya`ll know…

a cute baby wearing a yellow hat….

and of course please refer to my yellow umbrella two posts down for extra cheer in an already sunny climate!

x clio

a poem…

THE LOVE SONG OF J. ALFRED PRUFROCK

by: T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo
Questa fiamma staria sensa piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero
Sensa tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

• LET us go then, you and I,

  When the evening is spread out against the sky

  Like a patient etherized upon a table;

  Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

  The muttering retreats

  Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

  And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

  Streets that follow like a tedious argument

  Of insidious intent

  To lead you to an overwhelming question …

  Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

  Let us go and make our visit.

  In the room the women come and go

  Talking of Michelangelo.

  The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,

  The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,

  Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

  Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

  Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

  Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

  And seeing that it was a soft October night,

  Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

  And indeed there will be time

  For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

  Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

  There will be time, there will be time

  To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

  There will be time to murder and create,

  And time for all the works and days of hands

  That lift and drop a question on your plate;

  Time for you and time for me,

  And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

  And for a hundred visions and revisions,

  Before the taking of a toast and tea.

  In the room the women come and go

  Talking of Michelangelo.

  And indeed there will be time

  To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

  Time to turn back and descend the stair,

  With a bald spot in the middle of my hair–

  (They will say: ‘How his hair is growing thin!”)

  My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

  My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin–

  (They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)

  Do I dare

  Disturb the universe?

  In a minute there is time

  For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

  For I have known them all already, known them all:

  Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

  I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

  I know the voices dying with a dying fall

  Beneath the music from a farther room.

  So how should I presume?

  And I have known the eyes already, known them all–

  The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

  And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

  When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

  Then how should I begin

  To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?

  And how should I presume?

  And I have known the arms already, known them all–

  Arms that are braceleted and white and bare

  (But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)

  Is it perfume from a dress

  That makes me so digress?

  Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.

  And should I then presume?

  And how should I begin?

  Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets

  And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

  Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? …

  I should have been a pair of ragged claws

  Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

  * * *

  And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!

  Smoothed by long fingers,

  Asleep … tired … or it malingers,

  Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

  Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

  Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

  But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,

  Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,

  I am no prophet–and here’s no great matter;

  I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

  And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,

  And in short, I was afraid.

  And would it have been worth it, after all,

  After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

  Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

  Would it have been worth while,

  To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

  To have squeezed the universe into a ball

  To roll it towards some overwhelming question,

  To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,

  Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”–

  If one, settling a pillow by her head

  Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;

  That is not it, at all.”

  And would it have been worth it, after all,

  Would it have been worth while,

  After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

  After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor–

  And this, and so much more?–

  It is impossible to say just what I mean!

  But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:

  Would it have been worth while

  If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,

  And turning toward the window, should say:

  “That is not it at all,

  That is not what I meant, at all.”

  No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

  Am an attendant lord, one that will do

  To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

  Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

  Deferential, glad to be of use,

  Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

  Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

  At times, indeed, almost ridiculous–

  Almost, at times, the Fool.

  I grow old … I grow old …

  I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

  Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

  I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

  I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

  I do not think that they will sing to me.

  I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

  Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

  When the wind blows the water white and black.

  We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

  By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

  Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

lots of pretty colourful things

I have become the proud owner of a collection of umbrellas! I have had cool umbrellas in the past but only ever one at a time. I had a pink polka dot one for about two weeks before I lost it and for a while I had kids umbrella with a ducks head on the top and two wings out either side. I would walk down the street to a symphony of nudges and cries (in tough inner city dublin) of “would ya look at the state of ‘er”. It made people smile though, made a rainy day a happy escuse to use my bright yellow duck umbrella.

Women use the umbrellas here as Parasols. To stay out of the sun and I have taken up this habit. When you live in the sun you actually spend most of your time staying out of it rather than taking your clothes off and smathering yourself in quick tan lotion and lying very still for hours. I never had the patience for tanning.

Here they are in a row from big to little. The smallest one is a kids one and the blue one was my first and the brown one is a very pretty parasol and the yellow one I just bought in Los Mochis because it was raining.

Paul after I persuaded him to let me take it.

He said I could put this one on my blog if I put another one of him looking tough and being a miner so here is one of him looking tough at his son Arthur and Art very obviously taking him seriously.

I also bought some new oil cloth to make some new purses from. Very excited!

Here is a fish I have done in the last while. It is good to get back to fabrics. I got some cool new fabrics in mochis too.

My butterfly embroidery.

On the way to the mine in the morning the air is filled white big white butterflies. They are beautiful and fragile. I used a fabric that dissolves in water to do the outside lacy effect (i wish I had more of it now) and then the butterflies and background were done on chiffon that I pulled and stretched and embroidered over. I want to explore these fabrics further…

Los Mochis

We are in mochis, finally took the train the other direction. Its an amazing journey.

Mochis is not very pretty but shopping heaven after being in Temoris! I went fabric shopping and clothes shopping and we went to the cinema and saw the new mummy picture, which we reckoned was exactly like the other two but what a treat to go to the cinema! We got to the beach late yesterday. If we had had more time we would have headed down to Mazatlan which is beautiful and right on the ocean. Mochis is about half an hours drive away. The beaches are wonderful but for snorkling I think Mazatlan and Puerto Vallarta are better.

Today a storm rolled in and this city is definitly not built for water. We went out to do stuff and got soaked and waded through ankle deep muddy water for most of the time. Cars stalling in intersections and buses ignoring the water and charging through it at their usual speed.

I have no photos…. been sick for the last day or so, a cold. we have actually spent more time in the hotel room than anywhere else.. sleeping… I did have some photos of my new butterfly embroidery but they dissapeared. I got my camera back! and the rashes are going slowly.

Advice should I get rid of the key hole of this oh so very cute commision I am sending into threadless? I was going to submit it and then I thought the keyhole is just not necessary…

Its good to be the King

Ya’ll have to go vote on this t shirt so I can buy it for Paul. He is always saying ‘It’s good to be the man’ to get a rise out of me and when I saw this shirt and the name of it its just too perfect. Its on another t shirt submission site I found called Design by Humans. I put their link in my blogroll.

What else… I left my camera in the internet cafe, big bummer, I am going to put up a notice for reward to get it back and everyone in the mine is covered in a really strange rash that we reckon is from the water but the doctors keep saying its insect bites and give us medication that doesn’t work. Why is it that doctors don’t listen to people? Its reaaaaaalllllllly itcy. I keep saying we have the mange, like dogs get!