The clarity of fever…

I knew there was a reason I didn’t want to go out in public New Year’s Day.

Flu.

It’s been 3 years since I had it, so I missed the warning signs. The deep dull ear ache, the abnormal craving for sugar, the lethargy. I could have prevented it if I’d been more on my game. Between that and my sore thumb, it hasn’t made a great start for the new year. Today I’m officially tired of my symptoms, so I’ve resorted to aspirin therapy.

I’ve used aspirin therapy quite successfully in the past for what I believed to be swine flu, which is basically a wasting disease, one of those maladies that keeps dragging on and on. You keep re-infecting yourself because the virus that causes it lives in mucus. You swallow the mucus and it re-enters your body through your stomach. Anyway, I’m tired of the symptoms so it’s time to deal with it a little more seriously.

On the second night of my malady, I had a powerful headache (which is really just dehydration.) But the pounding was awful and lasted probably 4 hours. During those four painful hours, I dreamt. I dreamt about patches and deciding which patch worked better. With each pound, I put one patch on top of the other. Pound. This patch. Pound. No, this patch… The patches were both the same. Shades of brown with the edges stitched in black thread.

I also saw her.

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She was also in browns, but I saw her, and she made sense to me. The next day, I drew her…and then I stitched her.

The cloth first began without her and vision for her there only came later. I wanted something simple to stitch, not too intricate…for the thumb is still very tender. I wanted something basic, something that flowed, without me worrying what should go here or there, what this or that should mean. Perhaps I finally let go. In any case, this happened.

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I am loving the freeness of it, I am loving her there. I feel like she belongs. More than that, I feel like she is a very big part of me, of who I am.

Prairie Girl.

The piece says so much about where I live, the looming sun in our wide skies, the Heartland, the green and brown of the earth. Maybe the red dirt is more akin to Oklahoma, but I put it there first, so I’m going with it. But the prairie doesn’t begin and end in Kansas, it is far-reaching. It stretches a long way, with a lot of territory to be explored.

Perhaps that fever brought some clarity. Maybe I’m finally getting somewhere.

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. Peggy McG says:

    Love love Prairie Girl and how she came to the cloth And your ability to stitch thru physical ailments So inspiring

    1. June Wildflower says:

      Thanks, Peggy

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