A "Stitch'n'Bitch" Post...

Hello, dear friends,

As always, it has been quite a while since I posted here. That between my daily job, my home business (a.k.a "a second job"), the girls (who are not so child-like any more), and all the "in-between" stuff, the blog seems to fall through the cracks. Sometimes, I sit down to write, but with so many ideas going through my mind - which one do I focus on? Where do I start? Quite often, just thinking about the process makes me realize it's not worth the trouble, and I choose instead to concentrate on stitching.
Stitching, unlike "bitching", yields concrete results, and I see what I have accomplished after each session. Here is something I have been working on the past couple of weeks...

12 Days of Christmas SAL
by Plum Street Samplers

My goose is cooked... My swans are swimming (along with some ugly ducklings)... In fact, the maids are starting to materialize by now - they just need their milking buckets.  It has only got me about two years to get here... I am sure it will be finished soon (she said, rolling her eyes)...

I am stitching this project with the home-dyed threads from Nancy Turner's collection, and it is a real pleasure to work with them... Such soft threads - and rich colors...

The Goose...

The Swans...

There are other projects I am working on as well, but - alas - I cannot post pictures of them yet... 

Now that the stitching update is complete - on to the "bitching" part. I hope to get this out as precisely and quickly as possible, especially because for me, this particular subject - social isolation - is a recurring topic. 

This time, my rant was inspired by the online article in New York Post about some study on single life. "Being single will kill you faster than obesity," it declared bluntly. So, wait, I thought... are they saying that choosing to stay single is, in fact, unhealthy?

First, I took it as yet another thing "they" say we, as individuals, "have been doing wrong", along with eating meat, brushing teeth, washing our face, and raising kids. I take the "expert" suggestions with a grain of salt and a healthy dose of irony, reminding myself that, as long as y methods work for me and my family, the experts can really put their advice where the sun don't shine. 

Then, I thought how ironic it was that, in a society that in all its general behavior promotes social isolation, this piece suggests that getting into a relationship - any relationship, as long as you are not "single" - is deemed healthier for me than staying by myself. In the world where on a daily basis people are isolated from each other - by their cars, cell phones, head phones, laptops - and in fact often view a simple conversation as a challenge - here is a piece that encourages each one of us to make a serious choice and "trust" them that it's "healthy" for us - just because they say so. Forget our individual needs, cultural differences, nuances of upbringing - in a word, anything that makes us unique - and follow the herd, do what we are told to, because "they" know better. Sounds awfully familiar - like something from a history lesson.

I do realize that, in essence, the article was just trying to convey a simple and true message - that 

loneliness and isolation is not good for anyone, and definitely not for long periods of time. But, it seems they are going about it the wrong way. Come to think of it, all the technology that isolates us from each other on a daily basis was created with a purpose to bring us closer together. Cars were made to help us travel faster, internet and cellphones - to communicate more effectively. But, somehow, as a society, we misused them. On Facebook, I get endless requests to like, share, re-post, and copy to "prove" that I care about suicide prevention, curing cancer, and other numerous causes. As if pressing a few buttons is actually going to help cure illness or prevent someone from committing suicide....

This is not Super Mario Brothers video game, it is real life. It requires real action. Care about a friend? Call them, text, message - and make time to see them, and talk, and listen. It will take longer than pressing a button, but in the end it will do a world of good. Feeling lonely? Get yourself out of the car and take a walk. You'd be surprised how many interesting people I've met ever since I had to rely on my own two feet and public transportation for getting around. Make real connections with real people - and you will learn more about others and about yourself, and in the process, hopefully, chip away at that problem of loneliness and isolation in our society.

If you don't have time for real communication and connection, and do not wish to make time, then... don't. But also, don't spread general prefabricated statements of "caring." Stop overloading the internet with junk. And in the long run, prepare to deal with the consequences.

Until next time,

Book Thoughts...

Just a quick post about my activities besides stitching. Right now it's tax return time, which for us means paying bills, buying necessities and loading up on books for the rest of the year.
For some time now, I have wanted to read the new book by J.K. Rowling. After the Harry Potter series, she wrote "The Casual Vacancy", a novel for adults. Unlike her previous, magical books, this one is very real-life, down-to-earth, serious and in the end tragic story about life in a small town. As the characters get introduced, described and developed, each one of their situations is woven into the whole picture, making it more tangled and complicated. Neighbors and friends scheme against each other; relatives deceive each other; children lie and scheme against their parents - and each character is wrapped in own illusions, lives in his or her custom world, until a real tragedy happens and two children die. Their deaths strip the pretense off the rest of the town and force the real colors to come through the appearances.... In the end, everyones' lives are   changed.... whether they realize it or not.

   (One strange detail: somehow through all the tragic events of the story I kept wanting to drink tea. Every time I started a new chapter, my hand would almost automatically reach for the teacup and then some cookies. The novel's story is anything but cozy, but J.K Rowling's descriptions transport one into that small town, with its cobblestone square, tiny tea and coffee shops, deli and restaurant, with all its smells, sounds, talk and gossip. Tea seems a necessity in this atmosphere, not unlike when watching "Midsomer Murders": small cozy-looking square, people bustling around, then - there is a dead body! Oh no, how horrible! Would you like a spot of tea? )))

   The most surprising - horrifying? - part of the story for me was the circumstances that led to the death of a 3-year-old boy. He was left unattended, walked over to the river and drowned - a tragic.. accident? Yes, of course. But it was not the moment of his death that horrified me - that was the final strike, the blow that gave the shock, but not the feeling of horror; it was the behavior of the people around him. The entire time, this boy was surrounded by people, by adults. He was seen marching to the river, straight to his death, as it turns out, and none of them asked themselves: why is this boy alone? Where are his parents? Why is he so dirty? Maybe I should stop him and call someone? No, these townsfolk - friendly and proud of their home and full of "community spirit"  - did not  even pause to do anything for one of their own, the smallest and the most helpless of them. They simply chose to - ignore him and go on with their lives. Their  behavior, in the end, is what caused the tragedy. Under the warm glaze of community spirit and smiles there is the cold, hard indifference, and the realization of that sends chills down my back.

Image from MTV.com

   Well it was meant to be a quick post, but when I start on books, there is no stopping me.. I will end this (soon) with a suggestion: if you have not read this book yet, then do - it's going to make you think... And  if you already have, then let me know your impressions.

On Friendship, Perversity, etc.

When I was fourteen, I was approached. An older man came up to me in the park, paid me a strange compliment - "You have a sexy walk" - and continued to explain that he found me extremely attractive and wanted to know me in a much closer way.

In the next hour of our conversation we had an intense, powerful discussion about books, human relationships, nature of sex, and each other's likes and dislikes. We talked about Sexus. We talked about novels of Marquis De Sade (he suggested I should read some of his works to get better acquainted with and accept my own sensuality). He explained his own idea of women and their place in the world, describing them as "instruments of pleasure" for someone like himself. In the end, he suggested I should come over to his place so that he could give me some "hands-on" experience on the subject we were discussing.

Overwhelmed with information, attention, his eloquence and, most of all, his straight-forward manner, I sat on the park bench, trying to get my thoughts together. Finally, I managed to ask, "How old are you?" He said he was - I think - thirty seven. - "And do you have any children?" - "Yes, I have a daughter, she is fourteen." - "I am fourteen too... If some man approached your daughter like you had approached me, what would you have done?"
His tone changed. "I would have cut his nuts off... Probably." - "Ah," I said, "so it's all right for me to receive offers of this nature from a man like yourself, but for your daughter - that's another matter entirely?"
He gave me a look - quite different from the previous lusty glances I had caught from him during our conversation. Then, he got up. I heard him say - very quietly - "I'm sorry." Then, he walked away from me without looking back.

Later, from my discussions with teachers and my own parents, I learned that I should have been outraged and insulted. Yet, I was not; in fact, I was flattered in a strange way. Flattered not with being his choice of sexual attention, mind you; rather, it was that he chose me to have an open, intelligent conversation about a topic no one else dared to approach with me to such a detailed extent. I felt like someone finally saw me as an adult. I saw someone who - for whatever reason - was interested in me and wanted to know as much as possible about me. Fully aware of the outrageous nature of his proposition, I still appreciated all the consideration he gave me while conversing with me about the delicate subject of human intimacy: there was not a single dirty word in his description, not one insult to my ear. He was an eloquent, intelligent, educated man, and I appreciated that about him; his motives might have been perverse, but he was entirely open and honest about those, using no "romantic interludes" that often are so popular among seducers.

Going on with my life and learning more about mythology, I nicknamed that personal encounter "my Azazel," which I think was quite appropriate. In a strange way, I still feel him present in my life, - whenever I see a male "friend" cover up his lusty interests with fake vows of love and devotion, I seem to hear my Azazel's voice: "Don't you think that's cheap? If you are going to tell this woman a lie, at least come up with a good one - give her some credit for her intelligence!"

Sometimes, as I look at people, I cannot help but ask questions and remember him as well. I think of the persons who are, although consider themselves my friends, do not take time to teach me about themselves or let me learn about them. They profess their closeness to me, swear their love and friendship, yet they do not take time to avail themselves for a cup of coffee, a game of chess, an intelligent conversation, - let alone for any situation that requires actual help. In this case, I cannot help but conclude that a pervert on the street took more time and interest in finding out my dreams, hopes and desires than any of them, and his goal was simply to... nail me.
I think of him also when I think of the causes of rape and violence in our society. Granted, often a rapist wants to rape out of animalistic instinct; he refuses to accept the boundaries of societal structure, and his rape is an announcement: "I want it and it is mine, I do not care what anyone, including the victim, thinks of feels about it." But I feel that, quite often, the use of force of one person over another may be a scream for attention, a demand for being reckoned with. Indeed, if one lives in the society where acquiring possessions has become a priority over acquiring friends, then one's existence may seem- and become - meaningless. Surrounded by "friends" who do not have time for you - ever; thinking of love for another person as something eternal and greater than life, yet forced to reckon with it as something of an endless dating game, - the way it is pictured on TV shows and accepted by the majority; frustrated by the feeling of own insignificance, yet sensing that you are destined for more... What is left? If people around you do not want to take you seriously, you are left with the only option: to force them to take you seriously. You force your date to commit on your terms by doing something to her that you want to do, thus making her accept - artificially - yourself just the way you are. You force your co-workers to listen to your suggestions in an unfriendly atmosphere of a hold up - now, that you have a gun, they will accept them, since they never seemed to have time for you during regular meetings.... And only to think that, if your friends and co-workers took the time to listen to you, to pay attention to your words - for any, even the most despicable, reason of their own, - you would not have felt the need to impose yourself so violently on others.

As artificial intelligence and technology progress, connection among human beings seems to weaken... Yet, it is our connection to each other that helps us survive during the time of the most horrible crisis... When we forget the importance of that connection, we disintegrate and die.