Weaving dry leaves, writing in community

 

Weaving dry leaves 

 Saturday afternoon and sun hot. There is bench with shadows of the leaves of a nearby tree on one half, and light on the other. 

Sit on the shadow on the bench.  Looking to see when the others will come for the meeting. We decided, fresh air and outdoors, Botanical Gardens. 

Two people sitting under another tree. A lot of blue and pink balloons around, look like gender-reveal parties are a thing in the gardens.  Ice cream music far away

More shadows of leaves appear on the bench. Time reaches for the meeting.

Plan to come and be creative , in community.  T

No one comes.

I have a pen,and a small notepad. I have work to do at home

I pick up a dry leaf and shade the texture on a paper, then take a blue ink pen to trace out veins and so. 

Finish that and no one still coming.  Place not too hot. 

Take out a page from the pad. Remember high school 'clothing and textiles' with warp and weft. Decide to weave the grass in a way. imagining a kind of mosaic mat of paper, fresh grass.

See some dry leaves with shades of yellow and brown. Wonder if they can be put in like how birds sometimes do with nests. 

Roll up the leaves and weave them in.

I have never done anything like this before. 

It has been an hour, no one has come.  Some people come, and ask if I mind if they sit behind me under the tree. I tell them is arite, I going now.

One of them says.. no no , don't make we chase you.  

Is time to go home though.

Writing in community

And home now, doing work and so. Physical work which lil harder as emotions and so involved in some of it. But glad to get things done. Wares in the sink to wash. 

6pm and there is a zoom creative writing session. Conflict between writing and washing wares and I decide to go write. Not sure what as there are things I have started and stopped writing, words coming up in my head, but some of them seems to be things from before.

We gaff a bit , then quiet voice tells us we have time to write. I could of course go wash wares in that writing time, but I follow the prompt, put down words about men from a book, and a man I met. 

And at home in this kind of alone space with the silence from the Zoom, words seem to flow. Not sure if words are coming because I think the others expect something so we could gaff more. 

Glad to have a draft, mean to finish in the week before the next session. But other things.

Next session, after the quiet voice announces the timing , I edit the draft,  finish writing  , hit 'publish  

And I accept that while I could weave dry leaves alone, I might need to write in community more often.

(Many thanks to the creative writing group )