I started sewing second half of the poem on quilt on July 4th. The color scheme was planned long time ago. I always want to work on project that reminds me the childhood when we used to write with purple ink on yellowish paper in school. The recycled yellow papers was used because we could not afford better qualified paper. Having enough money to buy good purple ink was not always possible. When the ink ran low, I had to add water to dilute it out so the resource would last few more days until I got money to buy ink again.
I remember my brother always went home from school with a purple ink all over his face , his hands, arms, his clothes plus the leaking inkblot on his note book like the one from the picture below.
The purple ink written on yellowish and brownish paper was an important part of my life growing up as now an important preference for my art works.
This small notebook was a tool that allowed school/ teacher and parents to make contact and exchange information that related to the student. Students had to fill out needed information in the beginning of the school year. Usually, the adults in the family would fill them out for much younger students. My brother was 7 year old. I was the one to fill this out for him. Both my parents were not available during this time. My father was out of the house after the divorces and mother was in and out of the hospital. I ended up signing both my brother and my mother's name.
This background quilt were combined by few corduroy discarded, thick jean denim and cotton pieces sewn together. At first , I thought that two layers of these combined were thick and heavy enough for me to start quilting. I did not have to add the batter layer in the between. Later, I regretted using thick fabric for a base. Too thick, when I sew, it hurts my figures quite a lot.
" If you cannot feel the pain, you cannot create good art." I said it to myself.
I have been sewing the letters onto the quilt. My fingers are hurting very much after . It may take 01 solid hour to finish one word.
Repeatedly pushing and puling the thread in and out the thick layers of fabric demands physical strength and determination . I felt exhausted so often now. A lot of time I found my self taking a break to ease the fingers soreness. I do yoga stretching more often in between. Until my hands were too sore and tired for both yoga and sewing.
I got an awakening.
I need to stay away from the project just to rest and reflect.
" Feeling too much pain, you gain nothing but shitty." " Never give up is stupid. Keeping going some times does not make sense."
The little voice behind the back of my neck stubbornly said, " but I know that I just have to keep going/ no pain no gain. I need to dwell inward to finish this project. That how I would get some "healing" done."
I continued to ignore my body's pain. I choose to listen to my so -call rational voice. Blindly, I kept going. The pain of fingers spread to the hands and then the arms. I found myself coining with medicine ointment on my arms so I could keep up with my sewing. And the little voice continued to tell me, " I have been doing healing word, I need to keep going. I am doing meaningful work. Do not stop." " Healing is a life time process. You will do the healing along until your last breath. You have deadline to make."
This was a month passed since July 4th ( today is August 4) and I strugglingly finished half of the quilt. It looked beautiful and stunning aligning with my vision for this project. I were eager to finish the whole quilt but I could not go on as my fingers are hurting so bad. I got exhausted and frustrated at the same time. The rational thinking with the little voice felt on the ground to surrender because the body could not take it anymore.
I remember that I went to Hawaii on third week of July when the fingers already felt sore.
I took 4 days off. I went to the beach everyday, dipping myself into the ocean for hours. Then I went back to dig ten fingers deep into a hot sand to release the pain.
By the way, this time I tried on ride Mando's moped and got a hand of it !
I felt free and delight. I took the moped to the beach and around Waikiki. The breeze along the Waikiki area were strong that day. I was scared but excited. I rode the moped on weekend morning when the roads were quiet and empty. The feeling of being liberated was so great. The feeling brough me back to Vietnam when I rode my moto bike everyday. I was almost crying feeling nostalgic . The silent voice screamed out loud inside my head, " I am coming home."
First one that I texted to share the news was my daughter, Mando. She was the one who encouraged me to ride on her moped. I told her that I felt confident and competent riding moped more than driving a car. I told her that I was so proud of myself.
The pain and soreness of my hands and fingers almost went away during short stay in Hawaii. When was time going back to Seattle, I did not want to leave.
This trip to Hawaii was purely vacation as Mando is back Seattle for her ceramic workshop. Me and Nguyen had the apartment for ourselves. We could hang out with my friend in Kailua and my high school friend on the beach without worried about what food we should cook for the children at home.
This was a first time I adventured out at night to Magic Island to see Friday firework.
I was told that if you want to have a " cheap date Friday night, " you would come to Magic Island early to get a good spot with picnic blanket and a bag of your favorite chip.
We did just that with three of us. Me , my husband and my friend. Turned out that we had a fun time together with conversation that not included children and daily concerns. The park was crowed with people gathering for 5- minute firework show. We got a good spot but when the firework happened, every one in front of us stood up, block half of the view. Instead of being annoyed, I felt pleased . I had plenty models to sketch . I did not have to worry that people may take notice some weirdo was drawing them.
My friend invited me to her friend's Moon party at Kailua. Guests were invited to circle around on the beach for sounding meditation waiting for the moon to rise above the water. Time stood still to listen to the sound of ocean and powerful singing bowls. Then of course there were wine, yummy food and music to dance the night away. Every one usually has fun in Hawaii. Since Kailua is one of the best beaches in the world, dancing under the moon at Kailua beach was a royal retreat.
Beside having fun, we had plenty of conversation dealing with sufferings, healing, forgiveness, love, pain and grief. Many difficult topics organically emerge when we are in the Hawaii water. I have been saying that Hawaii water and ocean carry healing property . The gentle waves of ocean indeed wash away my soreness and my anxiety. The wind cools me down so much I sleep very well once I am in Hawaii. Hawaii sun is warm enough for me to reveal the hidden truth deep down from my heart.
I love both going to the beach alone or with some one. When I am alone, I have so many things to do. Looking at others, breathing, sun bathing, sleeping, swimming, sketching, reading good book and simply just listening life passing through.
And the most important thing is doing nothing. I was told that doing nothing is good for the soul. Doing nothing in solitude is a bliss that Hawaii can offer, in my opinion.
There was a lady that sleeping soundly in the middle of the park on her picnic chair. She was in the state of being absolutely alone. Look how peaceful her world was. I did not see her at first. My friend spotted her and we both stopped walking and just looked at her for a moment. Who could sleep like that in the public park. It is proven that Hawaii parks uniquely offer an "invitation for people to rest in public" vibe all around.
Also I spend time with my Vietnamese friend from high school. We had not seen each other after 35 years. We had good conversation to catch up. We laughed like before. We recalled the past. We shared the moment on the beach looking out the blue sky and deep indigo water with the background of famous Diamond Head in Waikiki. Who would know after 35 years, I reunited with my high school friend here right next to the famous inactive " just yet" volcano.
Back in Seattle with a lot of unfinished works to do, I looked at the calendar. August is here already. Time fly fast. I am back to the reality that I have "healing job" to do. Sounded stressful.
One morning after my meditation, I had an epiphany.
So far, healing had become as burden and responsibility for me. I had treated healing as a work, a business.
I almost forgot that the time I spent in Hawaii was healing without doing any "healing work."
Hawaii taught me that doing nothing is actually healing.
Healing is not a work. Healing is not a business.
In the opposite, healing is process of" un-work" " un-pack" " un- burden" what inside my heart and on my chest. So eventually I will be lighter.
Hawaii liberated me from myself. Effortlessly. Gently. Unnoticedly. Just like the breeze I felt in Waikiki moped ride.
I felt fresh and anew again. For a moment.
I gently tamed my little voice of the back of my neck.
"Art has been acting as my healing agent since I started to draw long time ago no matter what art I am making. I will have to take it easy. I will continue to sew to finish the quilt. No more deadline. No more pushing. I will take as much time as possible."
I enter into a phase of actual healing both my mind and the body.
