Summer Solstice, 2017

Wishing you warmth and love on this first day of summer.

Let’s begin with a few lines from Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream:

“So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted;
But yet a union in partition,
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem.”


The world is fully alive again. We have bluebirds nesting in our yard. There are babies in the bird box right at this very moment:)

And our flowers are in glorious bloom.


Thinking about a summer party? I’m endlessly fascinated by what’s in my 1951 copy of “The American Household Encyclopedia.” In case you’re thinking about hosting a buffet supper, perhaps this direction on table setting will be helpful:


In other news, I continue work on my narrative paper quilt series. Right now I’m making nine blocks inspired by my talented and kind friend, Armen Elliot. She uses her camera as a kind of magnifying glass to look closely at what interests her. Most of her photos are about relationships. She works with people and families “to create something for them.” To read her interview and/or to learn more about the paper quilt project, click here.

This is one of Armen’s photos:


If you haven’t heard, my first novel came out on Earth Day, April 22, 2017. I’ve done many talks about it since its debut and I’ve enjoyed myself (even though at first I was very scared to stand up in front of people and read from my novel like an actual writer!). In case you’re interested, I’ve written about the experience of learning to own my new writer identity here.
 
In celebration of my book’s release and because three is my lucky number, I’ll be giving away three copies. All you have to do to enter a chance to win is share this newsletter with one other person and then let me know you’re interested in a copy of the book by sending me an email. I’ll select three winners on June 30:)


And, as a special treat, here are two paintings by my friend Elizabeth Snelling. She paints her surroundings, family, friends, animals and plants.  She says “If I can achieve an authentic portrait of domestic life, now and then, I’m happy.”   She told me she uses lots of beakers in her still life work because her grandfather was a chemist and when he died she took many of his old, German hand-blown laboratory glass for her own. 

I really love her masterful use of pattern. For more of her art and about her, see this


I leave you with a poem about Fireflies by MARILYN KALLET

“In the dry summer field at nightfall, 
fireflies rise like sparks. 
Imagine the presence of ghosts 
flickering, the ghosts of young friends, 
your father nearest in the distance. 
This time they carry no sorrow,
no remorse, their presence is so light. 
Childhood comes to you, 
memories of your street in lamplight, 
holding those last moments before bed, 
capturing lightning-bugs,
with a blossom of the hand 
letting them go. Lightness returns, 
an airy motion over the ground 
you remember from Ring Around the Rosie. 
If you stay, the fireflies become fireflies 
again, not part of your stories, 
as unaware of you as sleep, being 

beautiful and quiet all around you.”

xoxo,
Kate

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