I lost count of how many loads of rocks I gathered today.
For some reason I was drawn to really large stones. This was particularly surprising considering that I was lifting them by myself.
I started the day calling them rocks.
By the end of the day they were all boulders.
Margaret appeared uphill calling “Rocks for sale!”
“I’m buying” was my response.
Turns out she wasn’t selling rocks. She found lots of good ones as she was hunting just one for her garden. So she brought some for me.
She had trucked all the way to the northwest corner where she said there are completely untapped piles of rocks. I made a note to scout that spot next.
Here are some notes from the SG Sketchbook:
I moved four loads of topsoil from the meditation space to the new center bed, shoveled by hand. …. IDEA: Get a pull wagon! For rocking. With real tires.
I’m on my own today.
Maggie moved out of her room at WCU last week with Austin’s help. Today Mae moves out at UNCA. She’s allowed to bring one other person to assist her, and she has a three-hour window to pack up and move out. When she came home for spring break, she didn’t know that she would not be going back, per COVID19.
So, Reba and I headed up to work with the garden. John visited early in the day and commented on the frequency of my days in the garden lately.
“I’ve got a lot of time on my hands,” I replied. It’s a Thursday.
My wholesale business is “on hold” indefinitely. The venues to which I sell are all closed, deemed not essential. Suddenly I’m without income, and I’m left with questions about whether my work is “essential.” I always thought it was, believing that art elevates the soul, and that jewelry is an intimate art form in that it’s wearable and wrought with meaning for the wearer. Are those truths still true?
I’m ready for more stone work. But I decide to spend some time weeding in other areas to broaden my scope. I need time to think things through, when it comes to rocks, that is.
I have learned to think of the rock and the earth as concave and convex mirrors. And I’ve learned that soft red clay, which I often reach when I dig deep enough, is the perfect under layer for a stone that’s going to be walked on. I started out with slim stones, much wider than they are deep from the flat side. Turns out a stone with a flat side and a little more depth is much more ideal, more stable.
Digging deeper is causing some issues, bringing up stuff that I hadn’t planned to deal with. (Ha! Isn’t that how it goes. Should I start a list of garden metaphors for the contemplative life?) I have surplus red clay, and I have no idea what to do with it.
Until… I’m weeding on the east side when I notice a little tucked down area behind the main planting bed, just to the left of the arbor. I’m intrigued.
It would be an ideal place for meditation. There’s already what seems like a foot stone and a break in the stone wall. So, I set more stones to build a small retaining wall on the back side of the planting bed. And I kept weeding. Stoning. Weeding. And so on. And so forth.
The soil in the meditation space is rich. It’s on the downward slope from the entire garden, which years ago was graded and built up with fresh topsoil, and seeded as a lawn. There’s not much lawn left per se, but that topsoil is still there, much of it washed downhill from the main courtyard.
So, I’m thinking the thing to do is to 1) remove the topsoil from the meditation space and move it to the forthcoming center bed around the sculpture, 2) use the excess clay from the walkway to build up (level, with slight grade for drainage) the meditation space with a small retaining wall on the downside with the new fence line, and a stoned surface. That’s the order of operations as I understand it for now.
That, plus the plan to keep showing up to see what this garden has to teach me.
I have enjoyed my new weekly rhythm since the winter markets.
After their annual retreat, John and Margaret asked about sharing morning prayers with us (Jimmy and me). We readily accepted, wanting more opportunities for community and for time at Cedar Cross. I moved one of my extra benches into the studio and planned to begin each week with CX Studio Monday. And, CX Mondays would begin with morning prayers.
I also have a Sunny Garden sketchbook, and I’ll share those entries here from time to time. Here’s today’s:
It’s my “studio Monday” — I should be at my bench, but I’m fascinated with the stone pathway I’ve begun. That’s all I want to do.
Orders are being cancelled. But I still have some.
I continue with the work I began a few days earlier. Somehow I never, well, not much, get time at the bench. I did cut a few slices of tubing.
It’s becoming apparent that the Sunny Garden is a gift for me. It’s a project that I can’t finish in a day, and, unlike a piece of jewelry, it is literally alive. It will continue to change and develop with the seasons and the passage of time.
At this point we are just getting to know each other. I have no idea what is planted where, and as things are sprouting I am continually curious to see what emerges.
John mentioned a while back that he always thought the courtyard needed a focal point – something in the center of the circle. Today I found one.
I used a wagon wheel hoop that was leaning against the studio building and some of the heaviest, chunkiest rocks in the stash to build a sculpture in the center. I was really just playing, but I do think there’s potential.
Jimmy Allen
Ginger Allen