Saturday, November 24, 2007

Weaving hidden tapestries

It's been a while, I know. I haven't had time to focus on blogging (reading or writing) at all, lately, which is a shame since so many of you have such interesting things to say. To be honest, I don't much enjoy the holiday season, for many various reasons--some having to do with being the sort of person who doesn't care much for religion, some having to do with being the sort of person who doesn't care much for being told when and how to send gifts to people I care about--but here we are and I am busy making stuff to sell to stores so that they can sell it to other people, thereby turning the wheels of our great economy, blah blah blah.

My head hurts. Pretty much all the time, lately.

If you could see my studio space, you'd see me practically drowning in color. Great swaths of fabric are everywhere. Some of the fabrics are well-behaved and orderly with tags on them so I know how much there is on the bolt, stacked together by fiber (no mixing cottons and silks here), but others are not so compliant. They spill over the shelves, cascade off the tables, drape from the ironing board. They get into every corner and leave thread trails like sticky spider webs. We're forever pulling loose threads off our clothing and out of the vacuum cleaner where they clog up the brushes.

There are three different types of hand lotion sitting on my computer desk, just so my hands won't get dried out and snag the silks. My three meter long tape measure resides on the floor in a tangled heap, because any attempts to roll it up and keep it somewhere tidy inevitably backfire because then I can't find the damn thing. There is a box full of Japanese incense under my desk, and when I bend down to find a missing pencil or piece of note paper, I catch a whiff of that elegant and sublime aroma. "Reading for pleasure" means getting a new book through inter-library loan that covers a dye or weaving technique I've been trying to research. There's a perpetual stack of reference material by my bed, and I fall asleep sitting up almost every night.

Astrogeek puts up with all of this, probably because some days I remember to stop working and actually cook him a meal.

I've been told it takes 15 years to be an overnight success, which makes me about 3 years overdue. At this point, the best gift I could give my family is for me to be at least successful enough not to be stressing about paying the bills all the time. "How am I going to pay the bills" is the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing on my mind when I go to bed. 18 years of financial instability (tempered with intermittent episodes of gainful employment) can make a person edgy at times. I have almost everything I need to make it all work, to earn a living wage, but there is something missing. I'm not sure what, but it's something important. Gumption? An MBA? A swift kick in the ass? I just don't know.


At 11/25/2007 , Blogger FranIAm said...

Your moment awaits you. I love the vision of you and so many fabrics and colors... despite the fact that I don't know what you, your studio and/or your fabrics look like.

Anyway, I am just stopping by to say hello.

And while I do celebrate the holidays, I am with you on the whole being told what to do thing. I give gifts when I want to, not just because the retailers have made it a national priority.

And I get them all the time too... Like the gift of a good blog and blogger like you and yours.

Peace sister!

At 11/26/2007 , Blogger Phydeaux Speaks said...

Don't let Teh Holidays (or the financial crap) get to ya!

As far as what is missing that will "make it all work", if you come across it, will you make me a copy and email it to me?

I'm reminded of a great saying:

I finally got it all together!
(And promptly forgot where I put it)

At 11/28/2007 , Blogger DCup said...

I understand exactly how you feel about the whole making it thing. Sometimes it seems like the thing missing is the lucky break. Other times, yes, it is you (me?) who just can't make the move or take on the responsibility of's scary to try, you might fail. And then what?

I know ou don't watch much tv, but there's a Homer Simpson quote that's terribly apropos...."trying is the first step to failing..."

Afraid to fail = afraid to succeed. We just don't want to know, sometimes.

Hang in there, Sugar. (And I don't much like the holidays, either.)

At 11/29/2007 , Blogger kimono hime said...

Thanks, everyone.

I think my all-time favorite saying in times like these is "this too shall pass".


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