Friday, December 2, 2016


I am making myself take a break from this to tell you about it.  This is the first of (hopefully) many experimental excursions into sewing little critters of all sorts, by hand.  I have been devouring everything Ann Wood is willing to teach me, both about her stitching process and also about her personal creative journey--this is something that's been on my mind lately, too; what is the work I am meant to do, that only I can do?  Am I spending too much time making things that don't really need to be made--clothes that don't fit or suit me, things made for weird reasons like outside pressure, or gifts people don't really want?  How can I get closer to who I really am as an artist and a maker?  
  I have fallen so deeply into knitting these past months (years?) which has been divine, but I am not just a knitter, which I almost feel like I recently forgot.  I miss handsewing, and I miss tiny things, and I miss building little enchanted stories out of found things.  I want to lose whole hours rootling around in a basket of foraged doodads, looking for just the right silk flower.  So that's what I did today.  Ann is my jumping-off point--and listen, her blog is so good.  I am studying her words and taking notes from it like I'm auditing a class in Creative Process.  Such good stuff there, so many places to go.    
Something I struggle with so hard is that work like this--assemblages, mixed media 3-D sculpture, collage, etc.--makes such a holy mess.  I am desperate to clean this up, yo.  You should see the floor.  Knitting is so tidy, which is a huge part of its appeal, and this; all these little strings and wire clippings and scraps of paper and shredded fabrics, so much of it is stuck to my clothes as we speak, and so many, many tools, scrounged from every corner of the house--it gets to me a little.  I want to just turn up the radio and let it accumulate until I'm done for the day, and then I will put it all away, brush all the threads off my lap at once, and sweep the floor, and not care about it at all until then.  Goals.  At the end of the day, I can clean up this creative mess and still sit down with a mitten in progress.  There will still be yarn.  There will always be yarn.