A Matter of Voice…

Hello America. Protests abound, and rightfully so. Those taking advantage of that to be assholes, sigh. Stop it. Here in San Diego, I see many posts for protests that are then denounced as being organized by police sympathizers and white supremacists. We are tired of being inside, of being trapped by a viral enemy that we barely know how to fight. It’s true that America didn’t like the peaceful protest of taking a knee…or not saying the pledge of allegiance (I never liked that thing)…so this seems over the top, but it’s not. A black man was killed by four police officers. We need a protest that sticks and forces change. Of course, we don’t want more to die. But we need change.

As one person in all of this, I decide what next, where do I put a small amount of money, because that’s what I have…what do I bring up in my Zoom class…it’s so hard to have a discussion online that I would totally have in a classroom, giving all my students emotional support in person. We did have a discussion of protests a few weeks ago, where we talked about author’s intent…calling protesters THUGS when they are not white Republicans with guns. Calling out how what we say colors what people think. Making them think about that. Again, hard to do without the back and forth of class discussions. My Zoom kids are quiet and sometimes respond, but mostly I wonder if they are even listening. Sometimes they type and I read it out and answer. It’s not what I’m used to, but I will decide by Monday what to say and how to say it, how to talk when they won’t talk, and some will only see it online and won’t be with me when they do. The majority of my students are in a group that is subjected to prejudice of one kind or another, whether because of race or color, or culture or religion. I’m the old white chick who stands in the middle of them and tells them how fucked up the actions and words of white people are. Sometimes in their eyes, I see I am the first white person who has called out my own race in front of them. OK. It’s about time. There should be more of that.

I also hope the protesters are staying safe from the virus. I worry that in two weeks, there will be worse consequences…and I blame those four cops for that as well. Although, these things were happening already…still…and getting them out and effecting change in the police departments, the unions and legal systems that protect them, the attitudes of some who think this is acceptable…so that is the positive play on all this. HERE IT IS. Now let’s fix it. Please. By the way, shut up, Mr. NotPresident. You’re not helping. You’re making it worse. I can’t understand how that angry little man’s heart does not just stop with all this chaos it is trying to make.

Deep breath. I had plans for today. They’re not gone…they’re just sort of messed up at the moment and I’m having a hard time focusing on them. Finishing this is first. Making an art mask is next. Wait, packing up and shipping my Patreon rewards is next. Getting my drawing cleaned up to post on Patreon. Also getting some posts prepped and maybe even done for one of my art groups. That’s all today. Also the current quilt.

I’m still cutting stuff…

A little at a time. Sometimes way too late. It’s quiet. It’s meditative. It’s not school.

This is after Thursday night (up way too late)…

This is after Friday night (too tired to stay up TOO late)…

I can see progress. It’s probably harder for you to see it. I’m cutting out backwards from how I ironed down. I know I’m working on the third figure right now…the angels are cut out and everything in the air…so not halfway. But progress. More tonight.

Dots…ever-present dots…the orange flower on blue next to the sheep.

This thing is getting full.

Less than a third left…

It’s a quiet moment (of 30 minutes to two hours) each night while I do these.

Last night is the blue dot between the sheep and the strawberry.

I had to pull out all my beads for that…

While we were gaming online too.

A little 3D pop on that. And since we were still gaming, and my friend Julie sent me a couple of light-colored dots because I wanted to do a COVID dot, I started that. Someone had objected to the cat, so they did a COVID-19 viral particle instead. So did Julie, adding sequins under the drizzle stitches. We both looked at the CDC photo of the virus and interpreted what we saw. First I had to add a dot to the 90…

And then embellished it…

Commemorating the shit we’re sitting in while stitching this.

The world is weird. I keep saying that. Except some things are the same…things that need to change.

Girlchild made donuts this week. I was craving donuts…

I’m glad she’s been able to try all these new things. Before the glaze…

The dough was very tasty…the glaze was decadent. Holy moley.

Yeah. I know she’s going home soon and we’ll be back to eating the lame-o crap we usually make. It’ll be fine! I’ll be able to make the frozen waffles and pancakes she makes. Yummy. I saved some of the recipes on Pinterest. We will survive.

I exercised almost not at all in the last three days. That has to change today. I might go to Crest…it’s wide trails and pretty safe. My succulent is flowering again!

I need more of these.

I moved this little guy because he was in the weeds, not on the milkweed.

That’s not food dude.

Kitten follows me…

She wishes I would stay in one place. She loves days like the last three when I was on a computer for just HOURS. My hands hurt, my wrists hurt. Bad seating arrangement.

Nova knows a good thing when she kneads it…

Pokey cat.

More late-night Kitten…

Look! It’s a normal pieced quilt that I made. What a concept.

Sigh. OK. A hike later, when it cools off a bit, although it’s pretty nice today. I don’t think I can get the man to go with me. Oh well. It’ll be me and my music. Before then, some art work tasks for a variety of things. Some lunch. I want to draw, but all this protest is in my head, and as a white person, I have a hard time commenting artistically on racism. It occasionally shows up, but it’s not something I feel like I have a voice for. I feel like people of color should have that voice, and then my job is to promote it, support it, and buy it when I can. Maybe I’m wrong about that. Maybe there is a way to show how I feel, which is all my quilts are ever about, without taking over the conversation. But probably not. Anyway. Watching for change. Being a part of it when I know how. Dropping my voice into it when it makes sense to do so. When it’s not drowning out those who really should have and need their voices to be heard.

One thought on “A Matter of Voice…

  1. And then there are the people of color saying “it’s not our job to explain what’s wrong to you”, (or educate you…I have seen “Pick up a book!”) or, even worse, absolve white people of their privilege use.


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