Do you know what one of my favourite parts of blogging is?
The comments. I love them! Your comments are the difference between having a Real Conversation, and me having a little talk with myself and my imaginary friends in a padded room. And sometimes, just like in a Real Conversation, it is the things one’s friends say (the Real Friends, not the imaginary ones) that make all the difference.
Barbara, in yesterday’s comments, suggested that perhaps my craft studio was a place for storing my crafting things, while the actual crafting took place elsewhere.
I think you are on to something there, Barbara.
That comment made me think about when I craft, and where I craft, particularly during the times when Nicholas is out of the house for some reason and I am left to run feral for a while.
When Nicholas is home, I do most of my crafting in the evenings in the TV room, sitting with him, either chatting or watching TV. I have a comfy chair there, good light, and I can knit, crochet, or weave there.
Spinning is something I usually do when Nicholas is not in the house. I don’t know why that is; perhaps it is because I find spinning to be almost prayerful, a way of touching something deep and life-giving, something nourishing and larger-than-myself. I don’t spin in the TV room, interestingly enough. I spin in the living room, where the sunlight comes in through lace curtains, where there is a big empty space for me to wander around in while I use a spindle, where there is enough room for all my wheels and my drumcarder.
Sewing pretty much has to be done upstairs in the craft room; my collection of thread spools and bobbins and feet for the sewing machine need to be close to hand; and I need the space the worktable up there provides. But I’ve recently been thinking that if I had room for a sewing table downstairs, I would sew more than I do now.
I’ve been weaving more lately largely due to the tiny Cricket loom I bought last year. My favourite loom, a 4-shaft Norwood, is Guess Where: upstairs in the studio. It has sat unloved and unused for much of the past year; I used to use it all the time.
And then there is my first love…beading. In Colorado, I had my beading work table out in the front room, under the large front windows. I had my supplies ready to hand, and I spent hours and hours beading there.
My worktable is upstairs in the studio, as are all my beads and beading tools. I can count on one hand the times I have gone up there and actually made something beady. I love to bead.
I think we’re seeing a pattern here…
This is a tiny-arse house we live in, the smallest home I’ve had in a long, long time. It’s oddly laid out. It’s got small rooms, poor natural light most of the time, and oh heck. The lightbulb just went off.
My house and my crafting style are not in sync with one another. The rooms are designated as we thought they “should” be designated: The living room has a sofa and is for visitors; the dining room has our dining table; the upstairs spare bedroom is supposed to be for my crafts.
Will you look at that…my house doesn’t fit me. Well, well, well. The girl who spends her professional life teaching other folks how to make sweaters to fit their real bodies lives in a house that doesn’t fit her real life.
Houston, I think we have found a problem.
Today’s Random Good