Dare I admit this here, on this blog, supposedly a place of creativity and sharing, that for a couple months now, I have not had my sewing machine anywhere near my house nor my vast collection of cookbooks. My spinning wheel has sat idle and my knitting needles are in a box in my garage along with my yarn stash. I have questioned myself periodically about this-----how these things could have been so very important to my life for so long and then set aside so easily. So willingly. I wondered if my creative muse would ever return----had it been replaced by frantic schedules and heavy responsibilities?
Just like an every-so-often wave on the beach that reaches far past expectations, engulfing in-progress sandcastles and smoothed out beach blankets, I caught glimpses of my past creativity within my new routines but never did it stay-----always it subsided back into the ocean of possibilities. I could not expect it any longer but I waited all the same.
Only within the last few days have my hands felt the need for texture and making. What sparked the change? I don't know. I wish I knew. It certainly is not an overabundance of time. But the need was powerful enough to outweigh my time constraints and responsibilities. Sometimes the soul needs soothing in whatever means necessary.
A dear blogging friend of mine, Margie of Resurrection Fern, and I agreed upon a little creative swap of sorts last spring. We would exchange a skein of our handspun yarn and create whatever we felt inspired to create from the resultant twisted fiber. I received Margie's skein (pictured above) a week ago and was immediately struck with thoughts of the beach. Swirling waves of blue and green, full of life and transition... What does this mean in terms of an end product? I have yet to work that out (yes, Margie, I'm admitting that here and now) but at least I now feel compelled to tackle our project...
