love & glitter

Ooohhh… New Shiny Week in a New Shiny Month in a New Shiny Year.

Do I get to say that the New Year starts today? Because it certainly feels like it started today. With so many things starting and getting rolling and ideas flourishing and connections being made. It really does feel like today is the first *real* day of the year.

Over the weekend, I spent time with a project that was just for myself. Not as something to give away as a gift, not to be sent out into the world to bless someone else with its beauty, or an idea for a pattern that could be shared or sold.

This project was just for me, to admire and to appreciate. To mindfully allow myself to work on and with an idea. Something that spoke from my soul to my soul. It was joyful and fulfilling and beautiful.

(I don’t want to give the impression that creating things with the intention of releasing them into the world is unfulfilling, because that is certainly not the case. But sometimes, using your creative energy to nourish and feed your own soul just totally rocks and you’ve got to revel in it.)

And I got glue all over my fingers, which was lovely.

And now, if you are anything like me, you are likely wondering, what could be so incredibly wonderful?

The answer, as it turns out was actually found in an unlikely place: Target. Yes, that Target, the one that has one aisle of scrapbooking things and nothing else that can be defined as creative without using a really creative definition of the word creative. *grin* But, while I was out shopping for some scrapbooking things as a gift last month for a gift, I found this great little “Scrapbook a Calendar” Thing.

It came with stickers for dates.

I love stickers.

Its like being a kid when you get to play with stickers.

And placing 365 little date stickers in boxes seemed like something I would totally want to waste my time appeal to the part of me that loves neat easy little mundane tasks to do while on the phone.

I thought it might be fun to play with, and I didn’t have a 2010 calendar for my wall yet. So into the basket and onto my “Things-I-Can-Think-About-And-Maybe-Even-Do-When-The-Holidays-Are-Over-And-I’m-Not-Trying-To-Do-Too-Much-Else-Already” pile the little calendar went.

Who knew that this thing was so much more than a Scrapbooking calendar? This little thing actually turned out to be a hours long meditation on what I want from my time creating.

As I sat down to create “January”, I dutifully pulled out the two pages allocated for this month and the matching stickers. And proceeded to stare blankly at them for about twenty minutes.

At which point I realized that what I actually wanted was a chance to declare intention and vision for the month. And I dived into my box of things with phrases and words on them. (Yes, I have a box of things with phrases and words on them. Everything in this box is there because at one time or another it spoke to me in some way. I love this box and it would be one of the things that I would try to say if my house was burning down.) Rifling around, I pulled out a little canvas tag with the phrase:

“Creative Work Is Play.”

I felt the click and heard the chorus of metaphorical angels singing.

From there, I played with colors and shapes and other shiny things from my collection for quite some time. Arranging and rearranging to my hearts content. In the end, January looks like this:

As I go through this month, I plan to focus on the aspects of having fun during my creative work. And exploring what that really means. I will focus on lightness and joyfulness in the creation of pretty things. And on bringing the concepts of play to my work for freshness of ideas and renewing of my creative spirit.

Wishing joy and fun and playful introspection to all!

ps - Uh, I think that I’m supposed to tell you if this thing that I’m linking to was in any way a promotional item, or if it was any kind of affiliate link, which it totally isn’t, I just wanted to show you a picture of the thing I bought. I’m not 100% clear on the rules about “If you have to say something if its not one of those things”, so I thought I’d just add this note here.

You know the little hamster that are suppose to run on the wheels in the back of your mind so you can process your stuff while pretending to pay attention to whats going on around you getting other things done?

Well, I’ve run out of hamsters. There are so many things, so much stuff that I’m trying to work through and figure out.

And patterns I’m trying to recognize.

And I’ve been thrown a few curve balls that totally ended up hitting me right in the face, by people that I know throw these things, but that I continue to love and interact with, despite the fact that they should probably be inducted into some kind of “Throwing and Hitting Right In The Face, Really Hard” Hall-of-Fame.

There have not been enough hamsters to deal with all of this. They’re running about back there jumping from wheel to wheel, trying to get it all processed. But there just simply aren’t enough of them.

So yeah, Patientz. I needz some. Srsly.

I’m waiting to hear back from Havi, to see if I got into the Kitchen Table for the next year. She’s asked for patience while she goes through the gazillion applications and for people to please not have freak outs in her in-box. But all that really does is make me more worried that I’m not going to get in, because there are too many freaking people that want to do this. But, since I now Havi is a Good Fairy and will get back to me as soon as she can, I have made an oath to myself not freak out in her inbox, cause I totally don’t want to do that to her.

But… Patience = Definitely Something I Am Not Good At. So, I’m practicing. The hamsters are quite busy with this whole thing.

Patterns and People

And there’s a lot gong on in my mind about my patterns and the way that I react to the people in my life (some people might use the word relationships here). And the way that my stuff gets ignited when it meets up with other peoples’ stuff and all the patterns surrounding that. The way I interact with people. The way I react to things being thrown at me. And the way that it seems as if I must choose between sovereignty (learn more about this from Hiro Boga) and acting lovingly and compassionately.

Busy Hamsters, Busy Hands

So, while the hamsters are running from wheel to wheel, I’ve been working on keeping my hands busy.

A few weeks ago, I participated in the first challenge over on Erin’s blog Treasure Found to make a piece of jewelry inspired by hardware store findings. Ooooh… just my kind of thing. I used these fabulous washer that had both silver and gold tones to them and made this necklace.

Blue Baubles

Usually I’m not one to go for two colors of metal in one piece of jewelry, but you don’t argue when the Muse shows up (I’ve tried, it doesn’t work). So I used both metal tones of wire to wrap different shades and sizes of blue seed beads on to the washers.

Pendant Detail

And added a few more dangly baubles out of co-ordinating beads to give it a little more sparkle. I think I am going to make earrings to match this too.

Smaller Washer and Bead Dangles

And, Oh The Christmas Crafting….

I want to say again, just because its fun. Christmas Crafting.

I adore Michael’s for the amazing bins of Glitter Christmas “Flowers”. I made this center piece for my table out of the glittery “flowers” and those amazing cinnamon scented pine-cones. Oh, and when cider scented candle is burning …. heaven. Pure Olfactory Heaven. Also, I am developing a love for florists foam.

Its So Shiny!

Can I tell you, just one more time, my deep love of all things Sparkley?

Sugar Plums Can't Compare to Glitter Fruit

And if the goodies that inspired this weren’t enough to cuase my deep undying love for the purchasing managers at Michael’s, then these would have.

Glittered. Rhinestoned. Chirstmas-Colored. Feather. Butterflies. *swoon*

The butterflies fluttered off the rack and demanded to be used in the wreath I was making for the front door.

And who am I to argue with Glittery Rhinestoned Christmas Colored Feather Butterflies?

Its been wonderful to be so oft-visited by the muse lately, I’m thankful that she has been just as interested in keeping me busy as I have. Because, if my hands weren’t doing as much as my brain hamsters, I’m afraid there might some kind of brain hamster uprising or rioting or something out of sheer annoyance that they had too much to do and no one else (hands, feet, ears, whatever) was suffering with them.

And you really don’t want to see brain hamsters rioting.

This happens to me, and I have a feeling it happens to other people too. And so, here I am, sharing it. Perhaps if someone reads this, they will take some comfort in knowing that this happens to a lot of us.

Someone sends me something. A note, an email, a gift, a message on facebook (or insert whatever social networking site I am currently hanging out on), a text message, a phone call.

Immediately, I am filled with happiness that this person took time/energy/effort to reach out to me. I am touched that someone is making a connection to me.

Sometimes, it isn’t even something that someone wrote specifically to me. Its a post on another persons blog or an article that was particularly compelling.

In my mind, I quickly develop a wonderful, sweet, thoughtful response. It doesn’t take long to come up with the things you would like to say to this person in thanks or simply in the joy of communicating and sharing. I want to reach back, I want to further and strengthen this connection that has been started.

But instead of writing to this person that I feel a connection with, I don’t. There is fear, there is self doubt. I begin to worry that the thing I thought would be sweet/insightful/compassionate/interesting to say is in fact, trite/useless/unkind/meaningless/just plain dumb. So, I hedge, I don’t type out the words I wanted to share. Or, I do type them out, but my fingers can’t find their way to that “send” button.

An hour passes, and I don’t write or send or publish. I think to myself “I better get on that.” But the fear and doubt wins again and I don’t make the connection. I can’t or don’t or won’t write. And then its the whole afternoon that has passed. More doubt, more fear, more self inflicted judgments. Which leads to more not writing and connecting. And more of the bad stuff.

This can go on for days. Weeks. Months.

And, as if this whole cycle weren’t enough…

It gets worse.

Now, I have talked myself into and out of writing enough times that my head is spinning and significant time has passed. And a new ugly voice joins the chorus: “Why on earth haven’t you done this thing yet? What is wrong with you?” And with each time that I think about the thing I wanted to say, this voice gets stronger and louder. This voice tells me that the person that I wanted to connect to has now waited so long to hear from me, that they aren’t even remotely interested in whatever it is that I have to say even if (by some remote chance) the thing I wanted to say to them in the first place had been even a little bit sweet/insightful/compassionate/interesting.

This voice is Not Helpful. And only leads to more avoidance. Which leads to louder Not Helpful Voices.

Its really too bad, too, because all I was ever trying to do here was to connect with people that were in some way or another already awesome to me.

I want to be able to make these connections, to quiet these doubts and to step out of this cycle. I’m not so delusional to think these doubts and judges are actually going to go away, I’d just like to step to the side and let them go at each other without me having to me in the middle of it, taking the full brunt of every nasty comment they have. Its important to me to reach out, to connect, to share with my friends, with people who may become friends, or simply people who have a common thought or a feeling for a brief moment in time.

I don’t have answers now, I have no map for finding my way out of this loop. I am just hoping that by putting this out there and thinking about how I go through this process, ending up in this cycle again and again, that I will have loosened up some of the stuff I have around this whole issue.

The cat and I worked all day on unpacking and organizing my studio ALL. DAY. LONG. It was amazing. Well, mostly, I was amazing - er, um, I felt amazing. I worked really hard at claiming my space, which is something I’ve been struggling with. Doing it made me feel powerful, grounded and centered.

I also really enjoyed seeing so many of my things again. Things I haven’t seen in aver a month, my tools (a- hah! That’s why I haven’t been able to find scissors since we moved, they got packed with the paper art tools) and my lovely collection of… of… well… stuff. I’ll have to write more about my stuff next week, cause my Ode To My Stuff deserves its very own post.

So like I said, the cat and I worked all day. See? We conquered many boxes.

Defeated Boxes

So, I ask you, how is it possible that this

is still here?!?!?

The move and the turmoil in my life really took a toll on my creative process and projects. And the pile at the end of the day showed me this in a very striking way. I’ve never been able work on only one thing at once, and so I keep different projects in different bags so I can pick them up when I need to.

And when I stopped working I saw this…

project bag in one of the boxes

And this…

hidden down in a basket

And this…

ack, is that two bags sticking out of this box????

Four different project bags, lost and abandoned in the boxes. How many more are deep down within? And, to my horror, that first one is open. And has things spilling INTO and OUT OF it. How did this happen? How did it get this way???

Its funny how much your things can reflect your current emotional climate. With all the chaos I had been going through the last month and half, my most loved and favorite possessions were ignored, boxed away and, it seems, were breeding their own chaos. And now, as I reclaim my life and my creative spirit, I was finally able to work on claiming my studio space.

And that first bag, the open one, it feels so very much like a mirror. I feel like things are spilling INTO and OUT OF me, not just this bag. But unlike the bag, I think this is a good thing. I’m sorting myself out and working on letting go of the things I’m ready to release. I’m not pushing myself, I’m working on meeting myself where I am. And as I do, these good things, these good feelings just sort of spill into me. I’m not forcing them, they’re just spilling in. As the bad feelings are released and spill out as I am ready to let them, the good feelings continue to flow and spill in. And that is an awesome cycle.

And so, I continue to sort out myself. And I know I’ll get the project sorted out too.

Meanwhile, the cat is exhausted from his hard day’s work. I don’t think he’s quite as into physical-emotional-metaphors-become-reality organizing and unpacking as I am.

I’m going to try something new here.  Perhaps it will become a tradition.  And perhaps, it’ll be interesting for a few weeks and not go anywhere.  But its something I would like to experiment with.  And so without further ado, I give you: One Word.

Calm

Breathing deeply, knowing myself.

Those moments when it is actually possible to look around me.

The cat’s upside-down-head, paw-over-his-nose, purring softly nap.

A warm cup of cocoa in the evening.

A familiar song that comforts like an old friend.

The quiet knowledge that things really will turn out well.

Bright but soft light from every direction in my sunroom.

All the laundry put away.

Safety with in the storm.

My Love’s arm’s around me, warm and strong.

Stitches growing steadily across the fabric.

The dreamers quiet respite.

To me, this is Calm

Sometimes things happen and you can’t live up to your own expectations.  You make a commitment to yourself.  You do pretty good for a while.  Then, something happens.  Who knows what it is for you, but for me, it was a combination of a few ground shaking, off-balancing, things that happened a month/a month and a half ago.

Some of these things were wonderful: attending Embroiderers’ Guild of America National Seminar, buying this amazing adorable house with the quirky oh-so-this-house-was-remodeled-with-the-trendiest-stuff-ever-in-1972 printed panelings in almost every room and the amazing sunroom to make a real-stay-in-one-place-leave-behind-my-gypsy-card-and-stop-moving-at-least-once-a-year home with my amazing husband, discovering that some friends were even more kind, supportive, fun, interesting and true than I had before realized.

And some of these things were terrible or just plain harder to deal with than I expected: moving (yes, I know that I waxed philosophical about moving, but it was so draining and unbalancing this time), discovering that a friend I had counted on was no longer a friend - and having some seriously mean and deeply hurtful things said to me by this person, being left behind by others I thought were friends in favor of this person, rejection letters from shows I applied to, more days with no sales at my Etsy shop and there’s more, or at least I feel like there is more, but that may just be that those things weighed so heavily on me that it feels like way more.

Hard. Hurtful. Growing. Un-grounding.  Exciting.  Muddying.  Angering.  Trying.

In my mind, it goes something like this:

I am walking along in the woods.  It a beautiful day, sunshine, birds singing - you know, the kind of stuff that you would see in a Disney movie.  I’m thrilled to be out in the woods, taking my walk, I’ve been missing the woods and I’m really happy to be here.  I am not really paying very close attention, just blissfully wandering about.  I’m looking at the trees, the little crawly bugs, the interesting flower that I had never seen before.  I’m having a great time, even when I have these *small* stumbles, I’m cool, after all, that rock I tripped over is actually shiny and nifty.  And while I’m walking, I’m sending back these great little reports about the things I discover (that would be the posts that I wrote during September, in case my metaphor is too vague).

So, with all this interesting stuff to look at and think about, I don’t notice a few major things happening.  There is a serious storm coming in.  And all the stuff I’ve picked up is getting a little bit heavy, even it is totally awesome, which is why I picked it up.  And the battery on my cell phone is dying, giving my precious little energy to call out for the help I’m going to need.  But I don’t notice any of it - I’m just doing my spaced out walk around in the woods things.

And then, all hell breaks loose.  All of a sudden its all dark and scary with lighting flashes that only make it seem darker and scarier.  Its loud and violent and cold and wet.  I suddenly am terrified of, well, pretty much everything.  In a complete panic, I flee into this little cave that I discover while running around screaming.  I sit down and cry myself silly.  Which didn’t really feel silly, felt more like dread and anger and remorse and lots of other ugly things.  How could this happen?  How could I have not realized what was going on?  How could I have been so foolish to think that I would actually be able to do this?  You know it goes, so I’m not going to bother repeating the rest of the meanie things I said to myself in the cold dark lonely cave.

(I worry that my metaphors only make sense in my head, running in terror into the cave would be when I stopped writing, stopped creating, stopped trying.)

Yes, some friends called, and I tried to call some friends, but with the battery on my phone dying as I sat in that cave that already had terrible reception, most of the things they said never got through.  But I did take small comfort in knowing they were calling, even when I couldn’t answer or hear them.

The storm eventually stops, but at this point, I’m not sure I’ll ever actually want to leave this cave.  At least I know what’s going on here, and I don’t have to worry about getting caught up in some Freaky-Rain-Storm-of-Doom again.  Even if it really isn’t all that comfortable, exciting or interesting - at least its safe.

Enter, Havi Brooks and Selma the duck. Havi is totally a fairy and I suspect that Selma is too.  A fairy duck, or a duck fairy - I’m not sure which.  Apparently, Havi wanders in the same woods that I do sometimes.  I didn’t even know that other people actually came into these woods, but, here were Havi and Selma, just doing their thing.  I saw Havi go by and had to see what she was up to, it was way too fascinating to see someone else here.  So, I carefully watch from my cave, its still too scary to leave.  As I watch Havi and Selma, I begin to hear Havi talk about some really cool stuff that they do.  And it turns out, Havi  knows the way out.   She even has super secret magic tricks to be able to get out of the storm when ever you need to but still stay in the woods.  And, even more amazing, she is not keeping her super secret magic tricks to herself, she shares them.  Yeah, totally a fairy, the good kind, the really really good kind.

I begin practicing Havi’s magic tricks and the woods grow even more calm and beautiful around me.

I step tentatively out of my cave.

I am back on my journey.

I’m getting ready to move again.  I have been moving once a year (and sometimes more frequently than that) since I was 18 and moved into my first dorm room in college.  There have been many rooms, apartments, little spaces squeezed out in a corner.  I have moved for new beginnings and to escape waterfalls in my kitchen.  I have moved to follow love.  And I have moved for the love of a new place.  There were beautiful spaces that got filled with hurt and pain that had to be left behind.  And there were ugly basement apartments that are thought of with a fond smile for the happy love filled moments that happened there.  I have skipped here and hopped there.  I have moved and moved again.

Moving is stressful and tiring.  But its also very exciting.  Finding things that you thought were lost forever because you finally got all those books of that shelf and moved it.  And the euphoria of putting your own stamp on a new space.  This time will be more exciting than all the others, as we are actually buying our first house.

The most exciting thing about moving is the way that is like a “spin cycle” for our lives.  Everything is moving around at a very dizzying speed, but its getting rid of all the extra stuff that we don’t need anymore.  It can be really good for us.  And I think that this move is coming at just the right time for me.

My studio has gotten completely out of control.  There is just stuff everywhere.  Its scary.

See? I told you it was scary.  And you can’t even see a bunch of the stuff.  This is the stuff horror movies are made of.  “The Thing That Came From the Craft Room” or “She Went in and Never Came Out”.

Just so you don’t think that I’m a complete slob - my work space, where I’ve actually been doing most of my work is in WAY better shape.  I set up a work space with my papers, embellishments and trims in the main room of the house we’ve been living in so I can be near my husband while I’m working.  It looks like this.

But still, that mess is totally out of control.  And I’ve been avoiding it, cause I don’t have any idea where to start.  And I was hoping I would move soon and I could just box it up instead of actually having to clean it out.

It will be good to go through everything and get back to a sense of order with all of my less often used supplies and my fabrics.  But what will happen to me when I don’t have my spin cycle anymore?  When I don’t have to go in, clean out, box up and re-organize just because the lease is up, and I can’t bring myself to resign.  How will I ever keep my supplies at bay?

Maybe I’ll have to institute a October Spin Cycle Policy.  Or some other good month.  And just go through and de-stuff, on a schedule, just like I had to move.

Oh, muses of organization and decluttering, please smile on me and watch over me as I go forward into my new home.  I’m going to need you.

Sometimes, when on a trip to do something, I will randomly see a sign on the road and go “Oh look!  That sounds cool.  I’ve never been there.  I have to go!”

Last weekend I was traveling to Cumberland, MD to visit with my sister.  Cumberland, by the way is an adorable little town in surrounded by mountains (hills?).  It also has an amazing, thriving art community.  It was a beautiful day, and I was in the car all by myself, which of course means that I was singing embarrassingly loudly to myself and doing some pretty stellar car-dancing moves.

And then, there was this sign “C & O Canal, Cushwa Basin, Exit 24″.  Exit 24, was of course the next exit, and who can resist a word like Cushwa?  Cushwa, say it out loud, its just a fun word to say.  And besides, I’d never really seen a part of the C & O canal.  Unless you count the little part you have to walk over in Georgetown to get to the waterfront, and I don’t.  I’d only walked over that, I’d never gone there to look at it.

So there it is, the Cushwa Basin.  And to go with it, the Conococheague Aqueduct, which is a word that I am sure is fun to say, if you can figure out how.  Apparently, there is lots of history to go with all of this stuff, but mostly, I think it looks neat.  I spent over an hour, just wandering around.   Me, a really old bridge…errr, aqueduct, a ton of flowers, my iPod and my camera.  I just love technology sometimes.  Here are a few of the pictures I took that day.

They used to make bricks here, and apparently this little basin is also cool place for fishin’.  If you’re into that sort of thing.  Me?  I don’t have the patience to sit with a stick and sting in water, hoping something will show up to eat worms.  (Much better to spend hours putting tiny stitches in a piece of cloth to make a picture, right?)

The aqueduct was so beautiful.  All crumbly looking rocks and stuff.  Way pretty.  (Can you tell why I choose visual art over writing?)

On “back” side of the aqueduct, hidden so that you can’t even see it from the parking lot are some HUGE bushes of flowers.  They were taller than me!

Daisies are my favorite flowers, and these were close enough to just make me delighted!

I couldn’t stop taking pictures of these happy yellow flowers.

And here’s one more, just for good measure.  This one has one of the many bugs that were loving the flowers even more than me hanging out on it the shot.

This little dude was hiding out in between some rocks and plants really close to the water.  I am pretty sure he thought I was going to eat him.  I wasn’t.

I’m not really sure what these metal curly-que things were for, but they sure were neat.

This one has become a home for a little creepy crawly.  A sparkly home, how can we not love that?

This really was one of the most beautiful places I’d been to in quite some time.  I felt like any minute, I could trip and find myself in some magical fairy land.  Or maybe just climb these little stairs to nowhere?

It always makes me happy to find another beautiful place in this world.  I glad that it isn’t very far from home.  I think I’ll be having to explore some more parts of the canal now that I’ve seen this one.

And here’s a shout out to Energizer.  The bunny doesn’t lie, they really did keep going and going.   You guys rock the world of battery making as far as I’m concerned.  This was the last picture I was able to take before the batteries gave up on me for real.  I got over a hundred pictures from the time the camera started with that angry red flashing battery symbol to the time that it just turned off, utterly exhausted by my insistence on “just one more picture”.

Not a bad way to end the trip, huh?  And By trip, I mean I probably never went farther than 150 yards from where I parked.  But I still felt like I had been transported to another universe.  A little bit of beauty can do the soul a lot of good.

There’s an old adage that says “Good things come to those who wait.”

Like most of these clever little saying that we repeat to ourselves and each other over and over again, this one leaves something out.

Good things come to those who try really hard and wait.

And then try really really hard. And wait. And then try really really hard some more. And wait while they’re at it. Trying and waiting all along.

The universe rewards those who try. Those who move towards their goals and never give up. The people who follow their dreams despite the apparent obstacles.

For years, I have dreamed of a magical day when I would wake up and be in business for myself. I waited for the days I could spend working on the things that I knew were important. Waited for the moment that I would be able to call myself an artist without feeling like a complete phony. I waited. Then I waited some more.

Then one day, I began to try.

And the universe started providing me with little tidbits of good things. Suddenly, I was able to find more craft shows to apply to then I would actually be able to do. Have I gotten in to one yet? No, but I’ll keep trying and waiting.

I have been really trying to submerse myself deeper in my art and creative recovery. And then, in my inbox was an announcement that a group was starting to work through Julia Cameron’s The Artist Way.

I’ve been working for weeks at a logo. And I’ve been unable to get to a point that I am happy with it, I am not a graphics ninja. But I kept trying. Then, a blogger I read often and respect shows off her new spiffy banner and suggests the guy who did it. His work is awesome and I can afford his rates. I truly believe that this serendipitous moment wouldn’t have happened for me if I had given up earlier and just said “meh, I don’t really need a logo.” I’ll give up.

All those efforts that seem wasted and in vain create inertia towards the things you want. You must never stop (for long) moving towards your dreams. For standing still create inertia as well. The laws of physics apply to us all. An object in motion tends to stay in motion and an object at rest tends to stay at rest.

Don’t be an object at rest.

Go! Do something! Now! Try for your dreams. And then wait. It’ll come.

This week I have been really focusing on my embroidery over my other arts.  Which is both lovely and problematic.  Bookmaking, jewelry making, and my art pieces are something that I hope to sell.  So I feel guilty working on something that isn’t technically something I’m “supposed” to be working on.  Which is not to say at all that I enjoy making these things any less than the doing embroidery work.  In fact, these things often have a more “instant gratification” than the embroidery does, which is something I really enjoy.  Patience is just not my greatest virtue.  And the glitter.  There isn’t really glitter in embroidery.  I just love anything in which I get to use my glitter.  I love the art I do, in all its forms.

But this week - I have been pulled to my linens and threads.  I have been taking tremendous delight in watching a small oriental scene in shades of blue develop on my creamy linen.  It has been calming and relaxing and just generally pleasant to spend so much time stitching.

Julia Cameron talks about “filling the well”.  In which you do something to refill your creative minds with images, sounds and experiences. She suggests that artist need to set aside time every week to spend time with their inner artist and just be.  Preferably something out of the ordinary and either fun, rewarding, silly, enriching or just plain neat.  Its not supposed to be a really big deal, but you are supposed to go and do something. 

While I don’t think that sitting quietly and stitching was quite what Cameron had in mind, I am trusting my intuition here.  I know that this is the thing I need to be doing right now.  I am certainly feeling better for my time of quiet reflection.  Just me and the music and the up and down of my needle.  Little stitches lining up one after another.  Patterns and images slowly emerging.

The past few weeks have held several life disruptions and unexpected hiccups. I’ve had a couple let-downs. More than a couple rough days. I can always count on the thread to go where I tell it to and to fall where it is expected to.  The fabric never says “thanks but no thanks.”  The needle never makes me feel small, powerless or unworthy.  Its just me and the stitching, and we’re going forward.

I swear, its better than therapy.

I will go back to my other art soon.  But let me just finish this one thread first.  Well, maybe this line.  Ok, one more thread.  I’m just gonna finish up this section…  Well, it’ll probably be a few days before I come back from fiber-land.