A new year
Sometimes, my own ignorance (of my talents, of my motives, of just about anything) amazes me. Take this morning, for example. I've been home for two days - two amazing, unexpected days off work (because of the Polar Vortex of 2019). Yesterday turned into an offcial loafing day - I came down with the sniffles and spent most of the day under a comforter (and a dog) on the couch. This morning I slept in (8 a.m.!) and watched the moon, Venus and Jupiter line up in a beautiful pre-dawn demonstration of the cosmos. Then I got up, had breakfast and wrote for a while. Once I update this post, I'll go back downstairs to my loom and work on this scarf (above) too for a bit. We have company coming to stay with us this weekend and I have to be back at work tomorrow so I'm suddenly trying to absorb as much alone time as I can gather. But back to my ignorance - I've been mulling over all that's happened lately and how it seemingly distracts me from this blog and this work. I didn't take part in holiday shows this Fall and I'm not back on the ice yet so I should have had time but instead I have to admit that I've let this blog go...like so may bloggers around me, right? I've learned over the last few years to pay attention to where I pay attention. But it bothers me that I've let this go adrift. I have been being creative - writing the first draft of my memoir (PuckHead!) and challenging myself to weave patterns I've found that inspire me. But how does that all fit into the blog, you ask? Was it time to let it go? Am I done with this commitment? That was what I was muttering about this a.m.
And then, as so often happens to me in the shower, a light in my brain came on and I saw my own wall of ignorance for exactly what is...my own, constructed wall. Walls seem to be a theme, meme and metaphor for so much of what's going in the world right now, but for me, suddenly it came together in a burst of inspirational confidence - Wait! I'm headed to Finland in April and they are both a hockey hotbed and an amazing design mecca; Wait! I can choose to commit to getting this book into draft form by June - that's in my control; Wait! I *do* have time to create and to post on this blog. I do still care about the arctic. I *can* pull pieces together for sale next year. I *can* include wearables - my scarves are one example - and I do have new felt work in progress.
All of these insights popped up just as I was felt like I was scrabbling around in a dark forest looking for a trail. It's amazing, isn't it, how sometimes when I stop fighting the branches and take a step back and look at how beautiful the pines truly are, I find I can walk *between* the branches towards the view.
So now I'm back walking. Committing to at least a post-a-month on this blog to showcase my creative work for my 2019 commitments. Minus the book, these include:
learning enough Finnish so I can find my way to the bathroom in Helsinki and Espoo at the IIHF Women's Worlds this April (Missä on vessa, anyone?)
preparing talks for the 25th Annual Weaving History Conference in May where I'll talk about the American Metallic Fabric Company of South Yarmouth, MA
showcasing new work at Saline District Library this June and July, and
taking my glass to Fires Around the Lakes exhibit at the Bonifas Art Center in Escanaba in July
I really can't see further out than that right now, but I'm encouraged by my new view. So I'll leave it at that and end with a quote I just found that seems apropos for today's -19F weather:
“What she really loved was to hang over the edge and watch the bow of the ship slice through the waves. She loved it especially when the waves were high and the ship rose and fell, or when it was snowing and the flakes stung her face.” ― Kristin Cashore, Graceling