one match

Photo by Christen Mattix

“The pale yellow flowers of the dogwood outside this window are saints.  The little yellow flowers that nobody notices on the edge of the road are saints looking up into the face of God…

The lakes hidden among the hills are saints, and the sea too is a saint…But what about you?  What about me?…

For me to be a saint means to be myself.  -Thomas Merton

Rambling Rose, by Christen Mattix


A delicious knit on the bench today.  Sunshine for the first half, a light breeze and cool shade for the second.  Michael O. came by with his huge black dog, freshly back from a week of making a sculpture in another state.  A graceful kinetic sculpture like a giant pinwheel, but much more elegant.  He said he had forgotten how fun it is to make art…”I felt alive again, you know?”  I know, I replied emphatically.  This was one of those times that I felt alive, felt that I was doing what I was made to do.  Every cell in my body singing.  (Mind you, this doesn’t happen much.)  And to be honest, I also found my brain in a loop composing lines for a potential press release.  It never stops!  I have been savoring the film I watched last night as a guilty pleasure, “Like Water for Chocolate.”  I will never forget the image of Tita unfurling her knit blanket which trails her carriage for miles as she is carried farther and farther away from home.  (Several people have asked me if I was inspired by the film to make this knit line to the ocean so I promised myself to watch it.)  According to the therapist in the movie, each of us contains a matchbook, and each time we connect with our passion, we set one match on fire.  The trick is to light one match at a time, rather than the whole pack all at once…


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