the peaceful peacock

Like the new widget?  Please feel free to copy and paste the code in the text box (over there on the sidebar) in order to link to my blog.  I’m working on a couple more in different sizes as well–stay tuned for updates.

So while I’m doing some behind the scenes geekery, you can catch my posts over at The Yarn Shop and Fiber Place.  The Yarn Shop is my fiber mecca here in Bozeman and I’m pretty sure it’s the best yarn shop ever.  I’m in the process of helping them move gracefully into the 21st Century with a new format and look, a Facebook Fan Page, and Barb has taken quite a shine to Twitter.  We would love to have you join us in whatever way works for you, including stopping by for some face-to-face time.

Keep checking in to see the tinkerings!  Almost done with all the layout work!

I’m experiencing some technical adjustments and will be off the blogging grid for a few days while I get it figured out.

Please enjoy the music while holding…

Some of you know, some of you don’t, but we took a grand family journey back to Arizona over the last week.  Good medicine for the slow drag of winter come February.  I feel cryptic and filled with color, a feeling almost forgotten in my three year baby-growing respite from the road.

Simple sensations of home are fresh and wonderful once again.

Touching :: The faces of my sweet beauties, who are upside down and inside out from three days of confinement.

Tasting :: The memory of carne asada.  And salsa.  And fresh tortillas.  Sighhhhhhhhh….

Smelling :: Fresh mountain air ~ clean, campfirey, and instinctively familiar on a deep and satisfying level.

Hearing :: The preening of birds and the purring of cats.

Seeing :: The beloved big skies of home.

Stay tuned for pictures.  Lots of pictures.

Some people take stock in what groundhogs have to say about spring’s arrival, but around here we wait for a letter, a post card, or a phone call.

Last week it came, inspired by whiskey and the mystic evening light of a New Mexico sunset.

I do believe it’s time to tell you about Mikey.

I know what you’re thinking, but trust me ~ he’s not as scary as he might appear.

Mikey–or “The Slowrider” as he is known around here–is a peace loving, Rolling Stones rockin’, renegade of life.  Homeless by choice, he travels around the West on bicycle.  And when I say the West, I mean from top to bottom ~ Oregon to Arizona and everything in between.  He does it all on his trusty Giant, toting along the barest of essentials:  a bible, some beer money, a notebook, and whatever he needs to get him to the next stop on his 1800 mile annual journey.

He’s an honest man ~ working for his beer money rather than begging for it, accepting the fate of the life he has chosen for himself, and maintaining the faith that people are inherently good.  He hopped on a train at the age of 18 (he’s 45 now) and waved a peace sign at the idea of domestic life.  For the last three years, he’s chosen the path driven by his own two pedals.  And sometimes he falls over.  Generally after tipping a few too many.  No need to sugarcoat that part of it.  But he always gets back up, picks the gravel from his elbows, and heads on down the road.  He’ll continue to do so for as long as he lives.

So we have a saying around here:  Watch Out For the Slowrider.

Really ~ watch out.  You don’t want to hit him with your car.

The Slowrider is the sign of seasons for us.  Around this time of year when it’s looking a bit too wintery and wonderlandy, we start reminiscing and wonder what kind of adventures he’s found since we last said fare thee well.

So it’s official:  the Great Migration North is in its planning stages.  With a distant sounding phone call and a letter sent in Slowrider scrawl, we have been assured that Spring is on its way.  In 8 weeks.  With an ETA of May.

You can check on Mikey’s travels by word of mouth here and by checking in right here at thepeacefulpeacock.com.

I suppose a few may be wondering how my challenge of the utmost kind is holding up.

It’s challenging.  And good.  And I’m having fun with it so far.

One of the elements that I like about participating in something like this is that it becomes surprisingly personal.  I’m looking inside and out to discover exactly what it is that makes me tick in regards to personal style.  I’ve been browsing fashion sites, flickr groups, and inspirational blogs to open up new perspectives, and I’ve been caught up in the feelings of lack and out-of-placeness that come from checking in with fashion sites, flickr groups, and inspirational blogs.

And I’ve come home to the foundations.  The core.  Elements that create the essence of me.

When I was about 20 years old, I remember stumbling onto a bumper sticker that simply said, “I Am”.  I knew this was valuable information, something to be tucked away and stored and pondered over, but I didn’t really get it at the time.  I think I’m starting to get it.  The lesson is one that only comes from watching the days flow in and out, stealthily taking time by the hand and passing it under my feet.

That’s a deep and fancy way of telling you how wise I’ve become in my thirties.

What I do know is that everything changes.  But I am always me.  I am always here.  I am always doing what I do.  Here changes, what I do sways with the breeze, the pieces of the puzzle fit in different patterns from days to weeks to years, but I still value the same foundations that I have held close to my heart my whole life.  It’s good to know that now that I’m passing those little parts and pieces of myself on to other human beings, and I’ve done my best to polish up the tarnished spots and to repair the bits that came home damaged.

No matter what, I always Am.

In the moment.  On my way to something.  In love.  Enjoying myself.  Wondering.  Thinking about something else.  Happy.  Content.  Fulfilled.  Challenged.  Hopeful.  Baking.  Sewing.  Learning.  Nurturing.

Kind.  Graceful.  Blessed.

Even when I’m irritated and frustrated and impatient and tired and crabby and in the crappiest of moods.  I Am.

And I must admit, it’s kind of fun to find ways that express that in something as impermanent and fleeting as clothing.  It’s a challenge–and not my usual kind of challenge.  A challenge of the utmost kind, indeed.

So I begin with something easy and familiar.

Skirts.

And an old skill that I haven’t visited since those days of 20.  With this first piece, I honor all that I Am.  I also honor all that I Was.  Because while 20 was a pretty good year, it’s a part of me that still hurts sometimes even though I wish it didn’t.

In gratitude, I make this skirt for a young lady I knew a long time ago.  She was a whiz at embroidery.  And she was rather fond of faeries.