Skipping along.
My creativity has passed through phases of intense focus---- learning new techniques and mastering intricate designs--- and then other phases of just coasting, enjoying what is and appreciating the creative foundation I've already set.
I have dived down into the depths of technique while knitting cables or teaching myself to master bread baking (there have been so many outlets for my much required creativity) but on the flip-side I also need simplicity, too, like the rhythmic and zen-like quality of knitting stockinette.
I don't feel that I'm coming up with anything amazing or intricate right now. Rather, I'm spinning up other artist's imaginations in painted wool and fiddling around with the obvious beauty that comes out the other side, knitting up handspun swatches and enjoying the colors that play out in stitches. This kind of knitting is fun for me. Knitting up hats, embellishing them, dreaming about other things, spinning wool in the sunshine.... Nothing new under the sun here, but enjoyable all the same.
***I once belonged to a book club that had the tendency to choose deep "women's" books----you probably know the genre, Anne Lamotte (love her), Barbara Kingsolver, and Amy Tan (love them all). When it came time for another member of the group to choose our monthly book, he chose a dark and violently meaningless tale. I think he chose it purposefully to force a collective gasp amongst our members---a kind of literary slap. The night we discussed his book, another one of our members was missing. A creative and sensitive young man, that member didn't read all of the book. Our host, the one that chose the book, tried to explain his friend's reaction to our monthly book. I don't remember all of the description he supplied about the young man but I remember this part: some of us skip along the tops of the waves of the ocean (life) and some of us dip and dive into each crest and each trough, feeling each and every one, deeply.
That description has always stuck with me because I relate to it. I spend quite a lot of my life feeling each rock and roll---each crest and trough. When I can allow myself to skip along the crests without too much introspection, too much questioning, it's a good thing----it's a bit of a respite for my creative soul... Simplicity in color is the speed I'm at right now, skipping along those crests with a smile...












Sigh. Your writing and your way of experiencing life are just so beautiful.
Posted by:Lindsay | May 15, 2008 at 10:13 AM
Whenever I am in a more casual crafting mood, I chalk it up to having no inspiration, but the way you describe it, it is simply a part of the ebb and flow of creativity. Something to think about!
Posted by:Randi | May 14, 2008 at 06:10 AM
Thanks for the reminder to sit back and coast for awhile. I always want to push ahead with projects, even if I'm not in the right space for them. I can be so impatient about creating--I want to master whatever I'm working on right now!
I love the Joyce quote on your sidebar.
Posted by:Carrie | May 13, 2008 at 08:21 PM
skipping along the crests sounds like a good way to travel at this time of year. You can see more of the world from that vantage point. I love the wool you are spinning and can't wait to see what sort of stockinette stitched articles you will turn it in to.
Posted by:Margaret Oomen | May 13, 2008 at 09:48 AM
Oh, I feel you on that one. My brain can't take too much complexity right now. Give me pretty colors and simple stitches while I roll with the waves on everything else.
Posted by:Sarah Jackson | May 13, 2008 at 08:56 AM