Over seven hundred posts at my other blog, many years of teaching, not so many years of crafting (unless crocheting all of those granny squares decades ago counts... yes, after some reflection... it does), and Life's inevitable changes, and I've found another facet of my personality that is nudging, nodding, clearing its throat to be at the forefront.
The me who loves prettiness. The me who adores typography. The me, who more and more, finds excitement and anticipation and I-can-do-that confidence opening her eyes to new crafty interests... so nice to have the anxious, nervous, doubtful me putting herself in Time Out.
The diamonds, the glitter, the shine; the rubies and jewel tones and curvy pearls. The soldered window pendants, the ting-ting of the charm bracelets... The velvet, the fur, the silk, lace and denim. The Bohemian print papers, the weight of the brown packaging paper roll and the crisp cuts of the old schoolhouse paper cutter. The smell of scented candles, pumpkin in the fall, Christmas greens and cinnamon in the winter. Long hair clipped up, "artsy fartsy" tendrils framing my Eskimo happy face. Music in the background, acoustic, instrumental, holiday.
I went to college to become the teacher. I learned crocheting and sewing from my mother and enjoyed the pairing of creation and conversation over her dining room table at tea. I should have known ~this~ me would emerge again, asserting her value and importance, friendly but spirited.
Carpets from the Middle East. Mismatched furniture from here, there, and everywhere. Cubbies, drawers, nooks and crannies. Collections, treasures, stories. Photos. Magazines, clippings, web bookmarks.
Rambling. An easy meander. No rush. No deadlines. No rules to follow. Here, I'm enough. And I'll play with earthy twigs, and delicate tulle... and any other inspiring, curious or interesting materials I encounter, or to which friends introduce me.