more than enough

On Sunday night when I opened the front door of our house to let the cat outside, a brown caterpillar rolled across the threshold. It seemed symbolic of transformation and beauty unfolding; I carefully scooped it up and put it in a plant outside. At night in the morning when I go out to the car I have to thwart the frost that sets up home on the windshield. I think I must be traveling right around the frost point because it re-ices determinedly for the first few minutes. Later in the day, our mild coastal spring takes over and you'd never know that it gets wintery in the wee hours.

Today I spent the afternoon with one of my best friends in the world. We basked in the park amidst daffodils and crocuses and Garry oak trees, windswept pines and grasses on a hill overlooking the ocean. Because it is Victoria, resplendent peacocks and peahens stalked around with the mallards, and every direction I looked, squirrels of various colours were racing up and down trees. Five (five!!) herons were lazily perching in a flat-topped pine and as I approached the park several lifted off to flap slow circles around the pond.

I've been thinking lately about my purpose in life. Some people -okay, a lot- are helping others as health care professionals, teachers etc. I feel like what I can contribute is creativity. I think, done well, that can be more than enough.

Yesterday I rearranged all our furniture. Every once in a while I get the urge to change everything and it certainly does freshen the place up.

Seven the bunny is taking strawberry-flavored medicine for her ear infection. She's much easier to medicate than a cat. (Though J does the administering, thankfully.) She still tumbles and goes in circles but since it's only the second day we're very hopeful that it will help. The medicine is sticky and her fuzzy little chin works hard afterwards to clear her mouth. Zephyr, her robust and adventurous sister-bunny has discovered the couch. She hopped up right next to Pudding-cat, at which point I gently intervened. The cats are getting more tolerant, but we don't want to push them, and Pudding does feel strongly about the couch.



creating space for new adventures

_MG_9801 Please believe me when I say that a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Or rather that I put down that weight and am walking away. Please don't be sad because I wasn't having fun anymore.

There is something about a process so tedious, and so much work, that takes the fun out of creating. Like I'm so busy scrubbing and steaming and rinsing and ironing that there's not a whole lot of room for creativity anymore.

I want to be able to spontaneously sketch and scribble and twist wires and beads together without feeling like I am wasting my time and ignoring the real work art that needs to be done. I want these dabblings to be my art.

Part of me knew it all along, but I stubbornly continued headlong towards the foggy notion of a successful craftsperson, of sustained craft in my life, under my roof. I gathered supplies earnestly, gleefully hoarding all manner of dyes and squeegees and fabric scraps, and I built a functional studio of it all. Functional, but not functioning. My studio has been hauled on many moves, and it seems like I leave a little more in boxes every time.

I'm ready for my loom and printing table, buckets and dyes, screens and rolls of fabric to stop looming in the corner of my eye making me feel guilty for not having the time and energy to plod away at them.

So, where does this leave us? I am selling my studio equipment to good homes. I do still have a lot of printed fabric in (ugh) various stages of completion. When it is ready and finally done, I'll sell it or give it away as gifts. As for this blog, I imagine it'll follow me on to new adventures. I'm excited to see where creating so much space will lead. And I'll always be creating.