Thursday, September 23, 2010

Foot bridge



   
The new little foot bridge is painted with fresh red and white stripes.  The last  flood washed away the 2-plank bridge.  This one should be easier to see on a foggy night, if I go back to work after supper.

I cross the creek many times each day, and hoped the stripes would give me a little energy each time I crossed. The bridge has a little bounce.  Possibly the stripes will cause a transformation to occur each time I leave my (humble) kitchen and cross to the workshop:  housewife to artist. 

 I'm attracted to bridges. I was married on an old bridge.  (It was dismantled a year later--the bridge, not the marriage).  Some bridges scare me. (The  steep, narrow bridge over the Mississippi at Lansing, Iowa). I miss them when they're gone.  (The old 8-span green bridge across the Wisconsin River at Spring Green was replaced this year.  I'll never be resigned to the modern highway bridge). When standing on a bridge I like to look upstream, to see what the water is bringing down.  A warp coming off the back beam of the loom is like a stream flowing toward me, the future, possibility. The fell is the present, the bridge, where I stand.  Downstream, the water under the bridge, is the woven fabric  winding on to the front beam,  the story of what happened.

14 comments:

weaveblah said...

I enjoyed your story very much, and was especially delighted by the analogy you drew.

P.S. Great paintwork on the bridge.

Hilary said...

Love this. Your last lines are memorable.

barbindell said...

It's a terrific bridge--it looks happy to be there. It would be hard to not smile either coming or going

Valerie said...

I love the idea of crossing a bridge to get to your studio. So very symbolic in assuming a different role.

Also..getting married on a bridge!?..what a great idea!

Susan said...

thanks, Weaveblah and Hilary.

Barb, I wish I had borrowed a duck for these pictures!

Valerie, The bridge was abandonned, an old wrought iron affair, about a mile downstream from Avalanche.
The posts along the path, with the rope threaded through, are pieces of that bridge.

Entre Nous said...

Oh gosh I needed this. I miss the farm we lived in and this brings me back there.

Velma said...

i am fearful of bridges, big ones, but your friendly red and white footbridge is just right.

Velma said...

as for weaving, it is definitely the stream!

jude said...

what a great post!

alsokaizen said...

I love the idea of a loom giving us a tangible demonstration of time... and those stripes!

Susan said...

One of the most frequent comments made to me by people stopping in to watch me weave is "How long does it take to make something?" I think weaving is
always about time

Kathleen said...

I love bridges too. I love that you were married on one. Whenever I go to a new place I run across the bridge there. Then I run back, stopping in the middle. Thanks!

ALL said...

susan, i love this so much. i would love to do a photoshoot on your bridge!

Susan said...

any time, Annie