Dangerous Compassions



I embroidered a mantis on a white teeshirt for Ming.  He likes it.


That was the nickname I had for Ming, long ago, when we were young.  I called him Freaky Mantis.  He was very thin and angular.  I could see his ribs.  He would forget to eat.

Medication changes and birthdays later, Ming is rounder and gets referred to as a lady more often.  Narcolepsy is an intense illness.  People do some weird things to try to stay awake.  Ming likes crunchy, spicy snacks like jalapeno popcorn and ghost pepper chips.  Spicy nuts and hot Indian chaat.

But mantises are always amazing.  They hatch every spring in our garden and make mischief until winter.  Ming loves to watch them.  They do seem alien–freaky, with their weird heads.  Why are they so different from other insects?

Long ago I saw a pink one, in Sacramento, in the garden of the ashram.  We were weeding, and I was surprised.  We wondered if it was a mutant.

Here I saw a skin of a mantis one time, the molt part it left behind when it grew.  It looked like part of a dead flower at first.  Then I realized it was shed.

I was willing to embroider more: a rectangle around the whole thing, a circle of dancing bees, bright yellow outlining everything.  But Ming likes it simple like this.  I used way too much interfacing–my first time using interfacing, and trimmed it down.


I learned about a device that helps me thread needles: reading glasses.  It really helps to be able to see the hole.  Probably they would help with reading too.  Heh heh heh.

I don’t need more names, but if I did need another middle name, Stubborn might be appropriate.


For some reason I wanted to show you my pinterest.  I’m still not sure I’m pinteresting right. But maybe I’ll learn.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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