Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Muffled

Outside the store's window, the snow is sedately filling the air above the street, melting the moment it touches anything. There are no customers today. Behind the register, I'm knitting a baby blanket in fine-gauge merino for an old friend's newborn, and letting my own stillness fill me.

My wall calendar, newly changed to February, says "excavate," and shows hands on a shovel flinging up dirt from behind a mound of earth. January was "fix," with strong fingers making a tool usable again. Flipping one page too many, I read "resume," in March, but I tried not to see the picture. Time enough when we get there.

5 comments:

Songbird said...

I like this view into your day.

elswhere said...

I think I've seen that calendar! Or ones like it from past years, by the same artist.

Is it all white and black and red, drawings with few and bold colors?

(un)relaxeddad said...

That's a lovely image! There may well be snow still outside our room (I haven't looked yet!) There is, however, a Dalek, patrolling up and down outside our door very, very noisily.

S. said...

elswhere, it's Nikki McClure, and those amazing drawings are papercuts, done with exacto knives! She speaks to something really close to me--so many of her images draw on parenthood, bodies, working the earth, making. She's really wonderful.

(un)relaxeddad, we have been living with the queen, or princesses, of the witches recently, and she is bent on world domination, I think.

Songbird, thanks!

elswhere said...

That's it-- Nikki McClure! I have a friend in Seattle who has her calendar every year. It's always so beautiful.