Hello? Is this thing on? Do I have any readers left?
Friends, it has been a rough few months for us here at It’s Two AM. Without whining on and on forever, I will state this: Packing, Moving, Selling, Buying, Leaving Behind, and Starting Anew are, on their own, difficult tasks. But when combined together in various combinations and in a short amount of time they tend to make life a bit tiring, and of course, stressful. We are slowly starting to find our footing, and I am beginning to recover my composure. At least I hope I’m not misreading the signs or recovery.
One of those signs is the willingness to jump into new interests, as evidenced by this pile-up resting on the arm of the couch, waiting for some attention.
A few loose skeins of hand-dyed yarn, and a number of yards of fabric. Dyeing yarn is something I’ve been meaning to try for quite some time, and once I started, it was quite difficult to stop. Any protein fiber lying around that wasn’t already a lovely shade of something-or-another didn’t make it through unscathed, I’m afraid. What a fun, magical, and utterly surprising creative form dyeing is. I never suspected how addicting it could be. I’ve already succumbed to ordering more wool; just what I need right now hanging around here collecting dust and waiting to be packed up and moved to our as-yet-to-be-found new home… more wool.
At least I’m not the only one who has found the colors a little too hard to resist!
As for the fabric, well, I am slowly building up my fabric stash for the eventual glut of sewing I am sure to start any day now. I have big plans, but I’m also suffering from a big bout of intimidation. Any tips for getting over it?
It has been during this time away from the blog, and away from my creative endeavors that I have come to realize how important making is to my health and well being. These past months since leaving our home and beloved friends behind have been devoted to finding our way around the new town and finding our new family home. The process has been slow, all-consuming, and has left us with little to show but for stacks and stacks and stacks of paper. I have felt ungrounded and unlevel, and we have all suffered because of it.
And then I made bread.
It was a simple act; not much work required, it is made of humble ingredients and given time. The process is best left to develop on its own, undisturbed.
The metaphor seems so obvious now, but then, on that day, when I needed it most, the measuring, the kneading, the proofing and baking, there was little thinking and abstraction. There were my hands, there were materials, there was motion, and memory… I was once again caught up in the act of making.
It was simple act, but really, it was the perfect reminder.
Take time to make.