Steve asked in an email, "Still blogging or only Facebook?" Excellent question, of course he would ask.
Short answer, I keep hoping the spirit will become actual. Long one has to do with my expectations of this form when I began in March 2006, the height of enthusiasm for the blog form. Happily joined with peers known as Elderbloggers. Though I did not like the title.
What did I want from it? To connect with other aging women wondering about life after work, women who lived in other cities. Through incredible luck + synchronicity, spouse and I had been able to retire from a too-big house in Baltimore to a right-sized apartment in Manhattan. The move jump-started life as a conceptual artist. Began modestly with an essay, "Composting in Manhattan," written in a weekend writing class. Moved along in various permutations to knitting 150 red wiggler worm interpretations and This Dirt Museum: the Ladies' Room, an installation at Queens Botanical Garden--opened eleven days after 9/11/01.
As blogging receded in popularity among younger people, seemed to offer me less juice. Moved again 2009--last one--Portland, Oregon. Couple of years ago jumped into Facebook primarily to connect with local political scene. Found Amy Meissner, fiber artist in Alaska. Amy along with Steve in D.C. inspired today's post.
In The Final Boxes of Mystery Amy ended her crowdsourcing Inheritance Project. Having discovered her on Facebook midway, I went back to the beginning. Women's stockings led to the image here. Why did I keep for too many, many years discarded hose--mine and my stepmother's? First to use as stuffing for knitted animals for our first child, Rachel--the one who lives in Portland.
But she was born in 1968. Why so long dragged from place to place? To make necklaces for my installation in another century? Truly cannot remember except that I still have this one--think it was pantyhose--copper wire and tube, vintage bead. Have I found the where and the how for walking forward in these dark days?
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