Yes, it really looks this way.
This exquisite photograph of the Grand Canyon at Sunset was taken on the Martin Luther King Holiday, 2021, by Michael Quinn, a fabulous National Park Service photographer who has lived at the Canyon forever.
I think it speaks to his heart.
It certainly speaks to mine.
Eating Fruit at the Grand Canyon - A song to make death easy
Since this great hole in earth is beyond
My comprehension and I am hungry,
I sit on the rim and eat fruit
The colors of the stone i see,
Strawberries of iron cliffs, sagebrush
melons, white sand apple, grapes
The barely purple of the stonewashed slopes,
And every color I eat is in my vision,
Colonized by my eye, by me and everyone
I have known, so vast, so remote,
That we can only gaze at ourselves, wondering
At our reaches, eat fat fruit while we
Grow calm if we can, our folded
Rocky interiors pressed upwards through
Our throats, side canyons seeming almost
Accessible, the grand river of blood
Carving us even as we sit, devouring
Color that will blush on our skin
Nourish us so that we may climb
The walls of the interior, bewildered,
Tremulous, but observant as we move
Down in, one foot, another,
careful not to fall, to fall,
The fruit fueling us in subtle
Surges of color in this vastly deep
Where birds make shadow and echo
And we have no idea
Why we cannot comprehend ourselves,
Each other, a place so deep and bright
It has no needs and we wonder
What we’re doing here on this fragment
Of galactic dust, spinning, cradled,
Awestruck, momentarily alive.”
― Diane Hume George
Out my back window, immensely tall trees are swaying in a wind passing through the back yard. I'm thinking about the way the light makes the sky at this moment--just before sunset--look like stainless steel. Exactly the color of stainless steel. Clouds have blocked the setting sun and as I watch, the tone of the clouds shifts slightly more towards blue.
I never tire of watching the changing sky, or the way the gray and brown tree branches dance across it, finding their own rhythm in the evening wind. This light is moving us gradually from day to night. It subtly alters the cloud colors in each passing moment.
Just like thoughts change, and just the way life changes from moment to moment.
I want to be fully present for this moment. Just this moment.
When I finished typing and looked up, I could see a horizontal band of luscious rose-tinted light crossing the sky below the stainless steel and blue clouds. And below that, a band of gold-white from the last rays of the sun.
Exquisite, this moment.
In my mail today was a small flat envelope with the return address of a place from which I could not remember having ordered a thing. Huh???
I puzzled over it, put the mail down to do a few other things, and didn't open it until just now.
This cracked me up! I had recently sent a donation to the Insight Meditation Society, or "IMS," in Barre, MA, and in response they sent a lovely thanks and included these three masks. A total surprise!
IMS is renowned for their meditation instruction, and with good reason. In times when Covid-19 isn't interfering, it's a tremendous place to go for a weekend program or on a meditation retreat. As you might imagine, they are offering a full slate of programs online at the moment to keep people safe during the pandemic. These messages of lovingkindness really made me smile.
Although it's too bad they are necessary (although they certainly are necessary!), a kind friend just sent me 3 masks that didn't fit her but will fit me. Recognize the the fabrics? Designer: William Morris. (A.K.A. "That wallpaper guy," as a good friend calls him, which cracks me up) I adore Morris and will be so happy to wear these.
As mentioned in yesterday's entry, I went to a meeting with CZT Tomomi Galeano where she had us practicing the tangle Waybop. Many people find it hard to do. I knew it would be a fun practice. We all just used scrap paper, and I used cheapo printer paper--in fact, I did this on the back of a bill, or what I thought was a bill, that I was planning on recycling.
Tomomi just did this as a free meeting for anyone who wanted to come. Another kind friend. I feel very fortunate with the number of kind people in my life.
Want to see the plain unvarnished first version? It's in yesterday's post.
The misshapen exterior is caused by my just cutting out the paper around the tangle. I did this exercise as pure practice and you can tell by the wobbly lines I was making decisions as I went along. I didn't expect any result, but was sort of charmed by it when it was done.
I finished it with some shading and color this morning. It turned out to be a good day for Waybop, or "bopping around." Suits my mood. Of course we still have turmoil ahead, but I believe we are up to the task. And today's weather where I am: absolutely exquisite. Warm but not hot, unexpectedly.
Similar to meditation, where some days are a slog, and others are just full of unexpected delights. Today is one of the latter.
Then, to my astonishment, when I finally flipped over the cheap paper, I realized I hadn't done it on a bill. I'd done it on the back of an email a friend sent me with a list of Peace Songs we would be singing together (on Zoom, of course). Interesting "coincidence" with the news today. May we all find peace in the years ahead.
It's a day for relief, and delight.
"Faced with the choice between changing one’s mind and proving there is no need to do so, almost everyone gets busy on the proof."
- JK Galbraith
Ah, here it is. The prime example of Don't-know Mind, that shocking moment of extreme uncertainty. I write this the day after the election, during a time when we still don't know the results.
Here we sit.
It's not comfortable. But that is the truth of this moment.
Even once a decision is clear, we still will not know what happens next. In fact, we never can know what happens next. We are always in Don't-know Mind; it's simply more obvious today than usual. Since we are wired to prefer certainty, it's so much more convenient to ignore the reality that Don't-know Mind is our continuous state.
Another thing I don't know : who stained or painted the small square of watercolor paper I used to tangle on last night. To whomever you are: thank you. The staining was faint but spread in lovely fashion across the paper and provided a wonderful smear-y background for linework and bits of color that I added. I like the way the original background spreads out beyond the border here.
I rarely do either of these tangles, so every line on this square is a product of Don't-know Mind.
Thank goodness for Zentangle®, which is amazingly relaxing, even in the most uncertain times.
"So much of our difficulty with uncertainty is that we've evolved to survive by trying to predict the future. The seasons, the crops, where the animals will be, if we're hunting.
But if we can really take care of what's right here, this present moment, what else is the future made of, but this moment right here, right now? The future is just a continuation of this. So there's no point in worrying and being anxious about the future, if we take good care of this moment, breathing in, knowing our heart is still beating, and how miraculous that is.
Breathing out, and feeling the gift of our lungs. That's the present moment."
- Kaira J. Lingo
My goodness, isn't that a busy page! Yikes. But the Inktober challenge is meant to be an annual sampling of a wide variety of tangles, so unless I do each one on its own tile, it's always going to be an "eye-crossing" visual experience. And this one is certainly no exception.
The process is really fun, though. I get to sample things I might not have considered otherwise.
A few of these have become new loves; a few really left me cold.
A few that I've always had trouble drawing just smoothed right out and were easy.
And a few that I know very well somehow turned into hot messes on the page as I ran into unexpected trouble with them!
Sort of like the experience of a daily meditation practice. Or to quote Forrest Gump, "...you never know what you're going to get."
Meanwhile, our fall foliage season is rapidly winding down, but for some reason, this sugar maple didn't get that memo and is just getting started. Sooooo pretty.
The start of any creative project requires something called Beginner's Mind, or Don't-Know Mind, which is also an ideal state for meditation. Since every meditation is different, using Don't-Know Mind is the best way to approach each one.
Just as with wool work, holding expectations at bay until I find out how things actually look and what actually comes up in this moment always works best for me. I learn this lesson repeatedly. Next time you see rug photos, the work will look different. Next time I meditate will be different as well.
Below is a new frame I was lucky enough to have delivered today. It turns so easily. As I said, I have two rugs underway right now. The one above is traditionally hooked and the one below is punch hooked.
Frame is available from Notforgotten Farm.
Yup, I'm starting another rug. This (below) is the first throw-down of possible colors. Who knows how many will be used? The design is a "challenge" my local rug hooking group is taking on--we are all hooking one particular pattern in our own way. Some members are already done; I haven't even begun mine yet but hope to get it underway tomorrow or later this week. I'm getting excited.
I actually introduced the pattern to the group in February and everyone wanted to try it.
The entire phase of beginning a rug reminds me of meditation practice. Every single time one sits to meditate, it's a form of starting over. You never know what will happen. It may not be fun every single time, but it is always interesting.
It's the same with hooking rugs. I always have a hazy mental picture of what I'll be producing, but the final result may or may not agree. Getting to the finish line can be a series of daily, or even moment-to-moment, changes.
My next unpredictable rug adventure is officially underway.
I was able to spend more time practicing yesterday and working out the rust and kinks from not having tangled much in the past months.
And here on the right is my pre-practice Palrevo "Mini-Me" with instructions and information noted on it:
Palrevo is definitely a high focus tangle, but very rewarding. I completely enjoyed myself. I warmed up by doing the tangles I posted yesterday. It is totally wonderful to be tangling again, now that I have a bit more time.
Every day I make time for meditation practice. I realize I need to make time every day to draw. It's not called "practice" for nothing. It makes all the difference in meditation, and in everything else.
Practice doesn't make perfect. Practice reduces the imperfection.
Finally my schedule is starting to clear, so get ready for some "bad tangling." I'm amazingly out of practice but happy to be starting up again, and here are the so-so results.
Why am I posting these? Because they are true. This is where I am now.
Just as in daily meditation, I am essentially beginning again. We all do this hundreds of times every day, with many issues, without realizing it. A meditation practice is cultivated over time, time each day. And with Zentangle®, just like with meditation, lack of practice will show.
But in essence, WHO CARES? There are no meditation police, and there are no Zentangle police either.
Julia Child's motto (The French Chef on PBS for so many years) applies here: "Who's going to know?" she chortles in her fabulous high-pitched voice, as she picks up the raw chicken she just dropped on the floor as she's being filmed and goes on preparing to cook it. As she pointed out, the oven would take care of any germs. I have always loved this moment of her show. She was always beginning again, with humor and enthusiasm.** Someone undoubtedly ate that cooked chicken, and no one got sick or died.
So FINALLY--yay!!!!--I am getting to begin again after months of not being able to tangle. Here is what that looks like.
It's "Inktober" again, so tanglers are embarking on a daily draw. This is an experiment with the tangle Flux, drawn on a tan tile. No pen used, only General's Chalk Pencils in olive green, white, and a scoche of blue.
I was curious about what would happen without the hard line from a pen, using a lot of blending. This is the result. I nicknamed this one, "It's only a dream," and went to sleep shortly after finishing it. Sure enough, I had vivid dreams all night long, and they were just as vague and ethereal as my tangling before bed.
Here's the Inktober link for tanglers (meaning, this is specific to tangling). Inktober has a number of genres--sketching, writing, etc. There is a prompt for every day during the month of October every year. I'm following the one for tanglers, but you may want to google some of the other genres if it interests you.
** According to Snopes, that episode was slightly-but-not-very different from what I remember:
"She was cutting the poultry up (which, as I recall, was a chicken), and it slid off the table onto the floor. She picked it up and said either, 'We’ll pretend that didn’t happen,' or 'Just pretend you didn’t see that.”' She continued cutting the chicken up."
Sure enough, the rust in my hand shows up even more here.
Once I sat down this morning I couldn't stop tangling. Although it's only the 2nd day of October, I have tangles from the prompts for Days 1-5 on this page so far. If I keep on, the page could turn into a hot mess, but hey. I'll keep on anyway.
The ONLY tangle here that I knew before this morning was Flux (upper border). Every other tangle was completely new for me.
Oops, I take that back--I know and love Pepper (day 5). But Anthem (day 3), Jackstripes (day 2) and Unbirthday (day 4) are all tangles I've never heard of before. These are all first-attempts.
You can also see some pencil-drawn string lines on the page; we'll see if I do anything with those.
As my idol Julia would say, "Just pretend you didn't see that."
Here it comes. Right on schedule, too. I saw a few of these beauties on the path of my morning walk. All the trees are still looking green and lush, but this is evidence of what will be here soon enough.
The weather has turned from horribly humid to dry and cool-ish, although that won't last. Fine with me, as I prefer it. I don't believe summer is quite done with us yet, however.
My latest meditation course (I'm teaching) appears to be off to a good start with absolutely wonderful students, all of them Certified Zentangle® Teachers (CZTs). I am always reminded how CZTs are some of the kindest people anywhere. It's a pleasure to get to know this group.
I'm also aware that today is the 19th anniversary of 9/11, a nightmarish day with a nightmarish aftereffect. A good friend lost her brother on one of the hijacked planes that day. His family will never be the same. May all those connected with that event continue to heal as much as possible.
It's a bit early for the following poem, but I cannot resist. I'm having autumn thoughts today.
Song for Autumn
by Mary Oliver
Don’t you imagine the leaves dream now
how comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of the air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees, especially those with
mossy hollows, are beginning to look for
the fires that will come—six, a dozen—to sleep
inside their bodies? And don’t you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow?
stiffens and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its long blue shadows. The wind wags
its many tails. And in the evening
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.
Hotter than Hades where I live this week; I'm lucky to have good air conditioning or I would be prostrate on my floor.
Instead, I have been too busy to tangle or do any textile art. It's all been great--I am engaged in teaching two meditation classes each week in July. Both are practicums for my 2-year Teacher Training Program and the outcome will determine whether I get certified to teach mindfulness meditation or not. When my in-person practicums fell apart due to the pandemic, my kind and generous fellow CZTs rescued me by signing up in droves for the two online courses I hastily put together.
CZTs are incredibly nice people. I was amazed by the level of interest in learning mindfulness meditation and will probably teach a couple of additional courses to try to accommodate those on the waiting list--and the global time zones of the would-be participants. They came to my rescue from all over the globe! Thank you from the bottom of my heart, my friends.
This has meant that I haven't done any art in weeks. So about 4 nights ago, not having the energy to think, I decided to just draw lines on a tile that I had begun years ago; I had used a leftover "snowflake" paper cut-out I'd made years back and then it just sat there for a few years. I found it the other night and my first three nights were spent just drawing random relaxing lines inside the string. I did not use any tangles except Tipple. And perhaps a case could be made for Pokeleaf but I wasn't even aware of or intending to draw that.
Here is the initial finished black and white tile:
It's possible I should have just left it plain like that, with some shading. But today I did add color and shading and ended up with this.
I'm not sure what I think, or even if it matters; I am only sure that I enjoyed every line I put into this, so whatever the outcome, the process was very relaxing.
I've been so busy teaching mindfulness meditation that I haven't had time to tangle (except for that last post) in weeks. Oh boy, do I miss it. Today I took a class called Renaissance Gold with Stefanie van Leeuwen in Holland. (I love Zoom! It has opened up a globe-full of teachers.) This was the tile I produced in class.
She's a gifted teacher. You can find her by clicking on her name above. This has been a wildly popular class for her and you can see why. The class was packed with Certified Zentangle Teachers (CZTs), always a good sign--sort of like going to dine in a new-to-you ethnic restaurant and noticing that many of the patrons are of that particular ethnicity: You immediately know you are in good hands and that your meal will be the Real Deal. We all had a relaxing time.
Art offers sanctuary to everyone willing to open their hearts as well as their eyes.
Oh boy! New gray-toned paper to play with.
I'm beginning to think I do my easiest tangling late at night. Both the previous work and the work below were done very late. It was after midnight when I finished each of them. I'm thinking that being tired slows down the critic in my head, plus at that time of day my goal is really relaxation, and I don't care much about what comes out of the pen. The result is usually better than the more self-conscious efforts when I'm more alert.
I take note that in meditation, focusing on the current moment and not worrying about the "results" is prime. And so is acknowledging that there is an inner critical voice; realizing that the voice is "just thoughts," and that thoughts are not the same as facts. We do not have to believe or pay attention to thoughts that pass through our heads, and that goes for the critical voice as well.
It's difficult to have fun or to achieve concentration when your ego is engaged in what it thinks is a life-and-death struggle.
(W. Timothy Gallwey)
My form of church, that is.
I left very early today to meet a friend and fellow textile artist on a rural road 45 minutes from my home. Each with rugs in tow. Our goal was to drape the rugs we brought over the stone wall that looks over a meadow and then down, down, down into a huge reservoir (part of which is just barely visible over the tops of the trees and under the surrounding hills) and get a decent photo. I ran the resulting picture thru an iPhone app and got this. I'm pleased. It's a mix of a few of my rugs and a few of her rugs.
This picture describes my spiritual life--the natural world plus a meditative form of craft such as traditional rug hooking.
The light, the earth, the stones, the colors, the sun, the clouds, the wind, the water, the trees, the hills.
I can't think of a better place to be on a Sunday morning in the autumn.
“The sun shines not on us but in us.”
― John Muir
It's not my story to tell, so I won't tell it here except to say that it was a roller coaster of a day for the friend I'm helping out. Just crazy--good news one moment, then bad news, then maybe good...oy vey.
It's a very good thing that we both meditate. And a very good thing that we both do Zentangle®. Both practices helped us stay steady throughout the day.
I did two more new-to-me tangles this morning:
I always find that lots of plain linework is a great soother in times of stress. The Twilight tangle was perfect for that.
And now back to meditation...
"Stay in your seat come times of trouble. Its only people who jump off the roller coaster who get hurt. "
I have been slowly exhausting my stash of Strathmore tiles, thinking I'd use them for tangle practice because I didn't like them. But they are growing on me. I may have to get more after I finish my current supply. They are a very different surface from the traditional Zentangle® tiles (Fabriano Tiepolo printmaking paper), which I truly love. Much smoother and in a way less forgiving than the Fabriano ones, but I'm learning to like them anyway.
Done for Zenuari2019, "Nametangles," day 10. Meaning, pick your or someone else's initials and then find a tangle for each letter. I chose D and R and picked D'eneh and Roscoe, two tangles I'd never heard of before and never tried--this is my maiden effort. Lots of errors but I don't care...Black Micron01 and graphite on a Strathmore tile.
This tile captures so many reasons why I love tangling:
Little darling, the smile's returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's all right
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
There are so many things to be thankful for today, but let me begin with seeing the sun. Where I live we haven't had a sunny day in a long time, and although it's extremely cold out, I notice how much the sunshine has lifted my mood. I can't be the only one feeling this way.
I've a long list of things to be grateful for, including the fact that I was able to do some Zentangle® last night and today, a process that is so meditative and so centering that I feel extremely lucky to have stumbled on it years ago. Here's last night's tangle:
Next, I did a tangle for Diva Challenge #377. This piece definitely has a "What the hell happened here???!!!" feel to it, as it ended up in such an unexpected result, with colors I rarely use. But that's ok--I like it. Later today I'll treat myself to going to the Diva's page (see link above) and see how everyone else handled this "duotangle" (combining 2 tangles). I expect I'll be astounded and intrigued by all the different approaches, as always. Here it is:
I also had time to find a place for the lovely little Buddha my good friend P brought back from her month-long trip to Asia. There is now another tiny altar in my house:
Gratitude today, in no particular order, for:
After all, Mother Earth is the ONLY planet with coffee. And chocolate.
"Nobody can discover the world for somebody else. Only when we discover it for ourselves does it become common ground and a common bond and we cease to be alone."
Earlier this week I was fortunate enough to spend four days in the company of over 200 artists, drawing. Meaning, doing Zentangle®. I really cannot describe the experience other than to say it was sheer heaven. Also exhausting. One thing I can say for sure is that I was scheduled to go with a good friend who was unable to come at the last minute due to illness. I really missed her.
This particular tile measures ten inches by ten inches and was one long moving meditation.
My friend Susie from Thailand and I were discussing images of Buddha and agreeing that one doesn't have to be religious or have any belief in Buddhism to enjoy the wonderful art inspired by his history. The art on its own is peaceful. She commented on this after seeing the white-clay Buddha in my previous post (July 20th).
I drew the picture above several years ago, probably around the time I bought that small white ceramic tile. It represents the "old" in the title of this post.
It's true--just looking at images of Buddha always makes me feel calmer, and I remember feeling that way when I drew this. As a long-time meditation practitioner, I'm interested in Buddhism for its psychological value--it is a truly wonderful way to challenge our own thoughts, and to learn kindness. I'm happy the West has finally discovered the wisdom of Buddhist thought, and at the same time, I never think of Buddhism as a religion and do not believe that the Buddha ever intended it would become a "religion" with all the attendant dogma.
Far from it.
After digging out that drawing today, I thought I'd spend some time tangling, trying out a tangle called Zonked, by Barbara Finwall. Susie had just done her version of Zonked (see the 3rd tile down in her post) which I loved, and she inspired me. While testing it out, I added Hanny Waldburger's tangle Namaste, in honor of of Buddha. This represents the "new" in today's post title. Here is the result.
If you are also a fan of Buddha-heads, you may want to check out Virginia Peck's lovely art here.
And now, it's time for me to go meditate.
...during which, I promptly fell completely asleep. Which suggested to me I needed to wake up and keep tangling. First I finished the meditation, then I did this. While not my greatest result, I like it on several levels.
I admit I am somewhat mixing my religions and cultures here. Hanuman is the Hindu monkey-god known for his strength and devotion (and much loved by Ram Dass, the longtime meditation teacher, author, and speaker). Hanuman is normally depicted with a human body, but I hope we can cut him a little slack here. And then of course, there's Buddha. Actually, Hanuman is also found in some Buddhist teachings as well, but not as commonly as in Hinduism.
I put Buddha in Hanuman's lap because I thought this "alternative version of Hanuman" might need a dose of equanimity before he got crammed into a box and mailed off to a friend as a gift to her 8 month old son. So, Hindu and Buddhist figures are playing together in this photo.
[NOTE: Hanuman is now on his way to his next adventure - he's in the mail - and I've no doubt he is fully up to it.]
This is another wonderful toy made by my next-door neighbor. She has a large assortment of hand-knitted toys--penguins, ducks, dogs, kitties, dinosaurs, you name it. All beautifully made. And then there is all her other lovely knitting, but since I don't have pictures, I won't go into that. But you can imagine how kids react to these toys! It's pandemonium when she sells them at fairs. She is so clever.
Still playing around with this lovely tangleation of Verdigogh, and finding it so restful to do. It's a wonderful form of moving meditation.
I am beyond excited to have finally obtained permission to use images from an artist I admire in some of my punch needle embroidery pieces. This is a long story and I'll save it for another post, but I have been trying to track down the artist for months and am so happy to have accomplished this goal. I think the "meandering paths" in the mandala above reflect how complicated it was to identify and locate him. Today feels like I've come full circle with this--hence, a mandala.
I did the above piece last night just before bed, using CZT Sadelle Wiltshire's Creative Calm Circle video for what she called a "Flora Vine" piece. It's a variation of the tangle Verdigogh. So calming. I went straight to sleep afterwards. The repetitive nature of the drawing here allows for genuine mindfulness. I'll be trying this again!
Just drawing repetitive lines is soooooooo relaxing. Any excuse to just do some linework and I can feel my breathing slow, my focus deepen, and the world falls away.
A good thing to know about in these troubled times.
At the museum, a troubled woman destroys a sand painting meticulously created over days by Tibetan monks. The monks are not disturbed. The work is a meditation. They simply begin again.
After doing my regular meditation this morning, I watched a recent "Creative Calm Circle" led by Sadelle Wiltshire of Vermont. As I've mentioned before on this blog, Sadelle specializes in meditative arts. This particular exercise was another continuous line drawing--the task was to NOT lift the pen from the page, and meditatively draw a tree. I really enjoyed it. In all, I think I lifted my pen up no more than 4 or 5 times while drawing steadily for about 25 minutes.
I didn't choose a real tree; this is an imaginary one. But the lightning scar comes from my childhood--there was a wonderful huge old oak tree in my front yard and it had survived being struck by lightning twice. It had a large lightning scar down the front of its skyscraping trunk. Sadly, the tree was removed about 20 years ago, but it lives forever in my memory as "The Survivor Tree." I loved that tree and its wisdom. When I was a child and troubled, it always comforted me.
The tree I drew today is not an oak. And the tree from my childhood did not have any vines on it. So without trying to recreate any particular tree, I added the lightning scar simply as a grateful memory in this drawing.
Continuous line work gives me the chance to let go and not worry about something "looking right." There's plenty wrong with the look of this one, but I just don't care. It was relaxing, meditative, and poignant to draw. Thanks, Sadelle!
I'm a textile artist (traditional rug hooking, punch needle rug hooking, and other textile arts), long-time meditator, meditation teacher and coach, focused on learning about the interplay of art, creativity, and mindfulness every day.
NEXT INTRO TO ZENTANGLE CLASS:
My next Beginning Zentangle® class is not yet scheduled--stay tuned.
I am always happy to teach 1-1 and/or in a small group in your home.)
Come and amaze yourself!
SITES TO WATCH:
Insight Meditation Society
Oxford Rug Hooking School
Zentangle: The Official Site
Green Mountain Rug Hooking
Massachusetts Tarot Society