Purple Prose...

I somehow lost the week.  I know I was busy with lots of chores and tasks, but holy crap...it's Saturday afternoon already?  Several things were checked off my never-ending list throughout the week, but not everything...so I have to wonder: what have I been doing with my time?

Walking the dogs twice a day; cleaning the house; laundry; writing (though not the blog); reading; mowing; watering the garden; weeding; grocery shopping; jaunts to post office; photography (check out the magnolia blossom); sleeping; cooking; eating; drinking wine; having a few meltdowns, thanks to the brutal humidity; washing the inside windows as Jeremy and his crew climbed their 30-ft ladders and did the outside ones and skylights; talking on the phone to BFF and sister...

And yesterday I went to the City Arts Festival, though not by myself as planned.  Bunny (my neighbor along the road) called me earlier in the week and I ended up meeting her and her husband George at the event.  It was fun, though we blew George off early on. He has lived here his whole life--that would be 85 years--and knows everyone, literally, and has to stop and chat with them all. We left him behind at the second booth and didn't see him again for an hour and a half.

There were over one hundred booths, with craftspeople from all around the Northwest and northern California.  I bought a little jar of organic goat's milk hand cream--cedar and saffron--because the smell nearly made me swoon.  I think I'll use a tiny dab now and again for the heavenly scent rather than waste it on my hands.

Then I wandered into a booth that was filled with colorful, floaty, ethereal dresses that were wafting in the breeze and I knew I had to have one.  The woman who makes these gorgeous wearable art pieces was from Jamaica, had married a man from Brazil where they lived for many years, then somehow (she didn't tell me that part) they eventually settled in a town called Ashland, near the OR/CA border.  Oh, the paths our lives take. Her accent was lilting, with a mix of both cultures, but it was her exuberance and joy--in her work and life--that made me smile the whole time I was in her company.

The fabrics are from South America, Jamaica and America.  She makes the dresses from irregular, color-coordinated lengths, sewn together in whatever way she pictures the material in her mind--she sort of paints the dress, in a way.  And the pattern design makes it flow over the body like water, perfect for hot and humid Summer weather.




The purple just reached out and grabbed me.  Though you can't see it in my photo, there are at least twelve different fabrics--and the back is different from the front, though in the same color family.  It hits just above my ankles which I like in a long dress: loose and comfy, doesn't interfere with walking.

Her style of clothing is Brazilian: Party colors, tropical nights, and dancing in the streets.

Then earlier today, when I was getting ready to take the photos, I found this:

Tucked amongst the different fabrics was this patch of cloth...with a dragon.  It really made me smile. The woman had told me, as she put my dress in a little bag, that I would find a surprise when I wore the dress.  I thought she meant how wonderful it feels against the skin, but no.  She meant the dragon.  I love it.

So, okay, in retrospect I guess my week hasn't been a waste of time after all.

Though it still flew by too fast...