And The Sky Was Filled With Swallows

So after a very long time of just tending to my emotions, thinking about the usual issues of mortality and grief, and simply lending myself to some alone time, I’d like to feel that I’m ready to get back into the world, back into life. I can sense that my face looks a little stranger, looks a little more stern. You can see some unhappiness clinging to me. But, so is the world, so is life….and you move on.

So here I am, anxious to continue on and return to the world a better suited person, guarded a little, loving a lot more, but in some respects, a little quieter than usual.

I’m not sure where to begin with myself. Not sure what to tell you right now, for there has been nothing more happening to me recently. Sitting quietly, knitting, listening to the waves outside, knitting, eating something here and there, knitting….

I think it can be dangerous to have so much time in your head. I truly do. I haven’t wanted to be online, talk to anyone, nor even respond to real truths. I kinda wanted to escape, deal with things in my own way, then proceed. And yesterday, towards dusk, I was sitting  outside, catching some fresh air, resting the hands. I saw a blanket of swallows swarming through the air, darting in random chaos, swooping through and collecting their dinner in the form of little bugs. There was something beautiful about the swirl of birds, the hundreds of them, darting about in panicky shrill. So, instead of having my mind filled with the past week and the things within it, the one thing I wanted to do was focus on those birds and that simple moment of now. I wanted to pin my thoughts into a point of only the birds and their manic flights through the air. And there was something remarkably good about forgetting for a moment the past, or worrying about the future, but grabbing hold of right now. It made me feel better, sharper, softer…..

So I guess in the next couple of blogs I’ll be back to writing about my dancing in my underpants, the strange little opinions I have , and life here on this odd little island, so close, yet so dang far from everything.

I have a bear for you if you want him. Another bear made with the Amazing Yarn from Lionbrand. You see? This is why I like these particular bears so much. They never look the same, just by way of the random striping that happens. He’s another one of a  kind, so if you want him, click here, or on any of the pics.

I guess that’s about it for now. Still a little quiet. But, I’m starting to surface, to feel better. Despite life I still have to get back to selling teddy bears. If I don’t’ sell bears, I don’t eat.

Gregory

Will Knit For Food Update

So, without the laptop I’ve had to start rewriting “Will Knit For Food” by hand. Its interesting how different the writing is when you slow down. And if anything, its a more energetic space to be in when its you and the paper alone. A quiet space of reflection and intimacy left void by the whirring of a computer and the shrilling bright light of a monitor. But, at some point, I’m going to have to have a laptop to work with, to transcribe the wild story of a man who ended up homeless in the woods and began knitting teddy bears to survive. A year ago, Kara’s daughter took a few photographs of me on the side of the road with a sign, looking desperate, in despair, but trying his best to keep alive while clutching my knitting. It was pretty mad to see traffic stop and slow as they passed me with these weird looks on his face. “What the…?”

I finally got the pictures this morning. Now, this isn’t the photo that will be on the cover once I’m done writing the book, but the one I’ve chosen is from that same day.Its interesting how thin I had gotten. 115 pounds, a tattered ballcap that was torn up and faded, clothes too big for me bought at the Salvation Army (and yes, its hard to find pants to fit a 26 waist and 32 length. But, despite how sad and desperate everything looks, I couldn’t help be drawn to my own eyes. They’re still big, bright and hopeful.

With the Etsy fiasco at my heels, and my feeling that their company is now solidly in my past, I didn’t crumble. No, I thought about that photo with those big eyes full of hope. They could have helped, they could have, but I don’t obligate them to that. They made their decision and off I go.

I knit ferociously last night this bear made with Lionbrand’s Organic Wool. A gift from Brandyce who sent it to me a few months back. I finally got around to working with it and NEVER have I see any of my bears work up with such an AWESOME belly. HUGE! I loved it! His face was shaping up and I could see his sad softness say, “Cuddle me. Please?” And then once the stubby little legs and the big belly came about I thought with a smile, “Yeah…That’s right, man. You were made for cuddling. You were made to be squished and squeezed until some little one falls asleep.”

He’s much larger than some of my other bears. I used a size 8 set of needles instead of 5’s. The little guy is in my shop.

He really is THE classic teddy bear.

And have faith in me, I know many of you do. Sometimes I have to remind myself to have faith in something bigger than me, something greater that many will call God. I do have faith.

Running out of supplies.

Martha, Marshes, and Mario Posing for Maxim.

I haven’t had much time to blog lately. Deeply entrenched in getting my teddy bears in their homes by Christmas Eve. It has been a wonderful two weeks. The room I’m staying in at my mother’s place is truly beginning to look like Santa’s workshop. Bits of knitting, bows, and boxes all over the place.

I wanted to blog tonight because I had a moment just a few minutes ago where I was reminded of the unexpected beauty in life. My mother’s balcony is adjacent to the marshes. All sorts of wild things happen out there. But, just a short while ago I got to see dolphins play, about three of them, as the sun was setting. I took a seat, watched them toss themselves in the air, dance about in the water, then scurry on. Life happens to move like that for me. Great things happen when I’m not looking for them. They simply appear, you smile, you admire the brilliance that is spontaneity, and you weep at how wonderful it is.

I like it here. If I could stay at my mom’s forever, I would. But, at the end of the month, I need to move on. I need to have my own home, cook my own food, wash my own clothes. After a year of being estranged, I’m home. And I love it. I feel safe, I feel protected and cared for. But, I do think that I’ll make St. Simons my home. I tried it once when I was in my 20’s, but none of us do things correctly in our 20’s.

Mario seems to be so comfortable that I often find her in a spot in the middle of any room, sprawling spread eagle and urging anyone to rub her belly. Yes, I know cats aren’t usually fond of having their tummies rubbed, but she seems to feel safe enough to let anyone passing by pet her.

If you missed it, my little teddy bears were on the Martha Stewart show on Thursday. Thanks to a great many people, I’ve been supplied a link to the show, and if you didn’t get a chance to see them, click here. Martha actually seemed genuinely enamored with my little bears. I think I just might be on to something….

Ok. Back to work. It’s crunch time. I’ve got 3 bears a day to knit up until next Tuesday. And in the interim, John (my mother’s husband) and I are going to be ringing bells for the Salvation Army tomorrow. So, even though I don’t have tons of cash, I at least can supply my time to ring the infamous bell. I’m feeling good. Feeling like…..

….like I understand what love is.

 

 

A Bunch Of Knit Wit Bears

Well, just shy of 5am and I simply can’t sleep. Figured I’d make some coffee and get the day started. Thankfully, the storm that was supposed to whack most of Central Florida last night never strengthened, never roared….it just sort of rolled by growling. However, in its wake is this wonderfully cool breeze that reminds me often that the crisp air, though delayed way down here, will be arriving soon, and in its breath will be the hushed scents of earthy leaves, smoky hearths, and holiday dreams….

I’ve been doing this sort of “Three Bear Special” at my Etsy shop. You can pretty much buy three bears at a discount, but you get an even bigger discount for donating one of your bears to a charity, or a person, or a cause. I think I’d like to make this endeavor a little more specific and a little more long term. Allow me to explain:

As I’ve mentioned in prior post, there is this wonderful little Methodist church around the corner. Kara and I frequent their thrift store often, and whenever we are there, I do get this sense of intimate friendship, of caring, of outreach. There’s something about the mood of the building, the room, the church itself that doesn’t scream of impersonal Super Church, but of a quiet, caring, space where they meet only as a refuge when the congregation isn’t out in the community involving themselves with the betterment of the life around them.

They have this program called “Knit Wits” that meets on Wednesday mornings. In a nutshell, parishioners meet to knit, crochet, craft and sew things to make and then sell to fund the various charities the church involves itself with. I love the notion of hands crafting in mad joy various things that will go to feed, to clothe, to shelter….I love the idea of knitting needles clacking themselves together for the sake of hope. I love the idea of laughing even louder over the whirring of a sewing machine.

God knows, the generosity of people, the love and belief people have shown me results in but one mere truth: goodness in the world can never be silenced. As appalling as the media would like for many us to think the world has turned, people are generally beautiful, kind things who wish only the best for their fellow man. So, this is what I want to do.

I’m going to continue selling those three bears, but with a hitch. I’ll be sending one creme, and one oak tweed bear made from Lionbrand Yarn’s Fisherman’s Wool to the customer, but will be making a third to donate to the “Knit Wits” on the customer’s behalf. The church can either sell it or donate it to a kid who could use something to hold onto in rough times. I have to keep making a living selling my bears, but there has to be a purpose behind it. It can’t be for myself.

If this life of mine is to be great, if it is to capture and grasp the elusive desire for meaning, then I must remind myself that this talent of mine was not given to me for simple commerce; it is on loan for a greater good.