Writing in the quilt

I've applied for about 30 jobs now, so I'm gonna wait and see and hope I get one...god I feel terrible and wish I could spend even a moment with any of my friends. Being yanked out of your entire life is really hard to adjust to. I feel like a traumatized goldfish who's had his bowl switched really abruptly.

Trying to learn how to play blues on my harmonica. I went into the woods in the park near the house and found a good rock to sit on and practice. Somehow I think playing music on a rock deep in the forest would make me feel a bit better. Hopefully I'll stick with it.

I went to a really cool gallery yesterday and saw some amazing quilts with pictures composed of fragmented patterns. One was a wedding taking place in a cathedral that was also a forest when you look at it a different way, and another was a waterfall called "Looking Glass Falls." The quilts had writing stitched throughout their pictures, and it was very hard to see, but I made this out in the waterfall quilt:

"Try to remember the running water so clean and clear that you can see the tiniest fish and all the colors in the tiniest pebbles. Try to remember that cold sparkling water running tickly over your toes smelling so fresh and making you thirsty. When you remember be a good steward of the clear clean fresh water that you encounter in your life."

Water's been quite a powerful symbol over the past few years. Coming into and out of our lives, sometimes missing or very hard to find, more significant as an absence. I wonder where it is here...and I hope when I find it, I take good care of it, and appreciate it.

"If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there is no water"

-T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land