Past September

September, October, now November, a time lapse of seasons with unusual warmth and unusual cold, swaying between dusty dry haze and damp chill. Everyday objects on the ironing board, a lavender linen spray I sometimes spritz on fabrics prior to pressing, for times when filling my iron from the sink feels like too much work, its gentle scent is just slight enough to notice. A second spray bottle of plain old tap water, for when I’m sewing masks, while the linen spray steam turns my studio into a relaxing herbal lavender field, the smell can be a bit much sitting a ½” from your nose all day. And lastly, my large heavy iron, the kind I’ve told myself to grab in my fictional movie style break in/self defense scenarios, the ones where I only have seconds to scan my surroundings for something to defend myself with, and that frickin iron is designated the studio wepon of choice …everybody does this right?

(Some context: I love and hate being scared, I was a kid who watched way too many slasher horror movies in the 80’s and was home alone way too much and living in a rural small town all my babysitting was out in the middle of nowhere. Dark walks home after the street lights came on. Thank goodness I’ve never had to rely on my knowledge of knowing the deadliest object in my proximity skill set, but better safe than sorry!)

I ordered some pretty fabrics online, while lovely, they are thinner than I expected. I really miss the touching and handpicking and in person-ness of everything. Getting better at being ok with the disappointment that sometimes tags along these days, the overwhelming sadness of it all, but, I can’t help but feel throughly hopeful with a new president taking over.

Kiki, she always do as she please. (Note to self be more like Kiki.)

A little pile of mask trimmings, corner notch pinwheels on the cutting table.

Sour green and bubblegum pink forever.

I made a kerchief, just a giant square folded in half (right sides together), sewn (leaving a little turn hole), turned right side out, pressed and top stitched. I love it and want make a million more.

Studio casual, not taking any calls though.

Already missing the maximum vegetable levels of late summer, my heart belongs to garden cukes…

ready, set, nah

Have you ever had something you really wanted to do, but then for some reason the mood shifts and it gets moved to the side or abandoned completely? I have that happen all the time with my making, I’ll have an idea, daydream about it (plan what materials to use & how cute it’s gonna be), draw out the details, gather supplies, and then not actually start it. Sometimes it’s because of other obligations, or other projects, but sometimes there’s no reason at all. I’m trying to be sweeter to my creative heart when the excitement fades and appreciate the happiness the planning brought me. Letting myself move along, maybe coming back to it later, maybe not. I tell my inner attitude it’s not time wasted, it’s not lazy, it’s exploration, it’s helping me be better prepared for it, when I’m ready for it.

It happens with my knitting too. I’ve had this pattern for a while (Ok, I just looked, I purchased it in 2016!) and over that time I’ve thought about this shawl a lot, and each time it bubbles back up to the top, I get a smidge closer to actually starting it, I can’t exactly put my finger on why I haven’t cast on yet, but choosing not to force it, will make it all the more enjoyable when I do.

Other times it’s the opposite, when an idea goes from a random thought on a Wednesday to a fully formed thing by Friday.

I wanted a shirt, so I made a shirt. I found some sheer cotton lawn fabric, drafted out a simple boxy top pattern and got to it. Revised a few iffy bits and version 2 is already on the cutting table.

(💕 Sewing beautiful things for my body out of weird stash fabrics because I can. It took ages to learn I was perfect the whole time, and it was society and fast fashion that had the size problem.)

Giving myself room to develop ideas, a place to start or come back to without any set expectations, allowing mistakes, changing directions, taking notes along the way, remembering productivity doesn’t have to mean physical production.

(💕 Making the slow moving glitter shakers of my childhood took way more time and effort than I thought it would, but Lex is an enthusiastic and calm craft companion and when I would start to get rumpled, she’d say or do something cute and snap me back. The trade off is, she’s messy as shit, So Much Glitter Face!)

Unexpected magical things just happen when you give something room to grow.

💕