Category: distraction

January 10, 2022

The pain of it all

The start of 2022’s been a little hazy with pain. On December 19, preparing for company and the holidays, something happened to my hip/back. Initially, we thought it had to do with a new med I’d just started for migraines, which would’ve been really sad as it seems to be working. No daily headaches can really brighten your day, let me tell you! Long story short, I tried my usual yoga and the chiropractor, no real relief. But friends and family and sparkly Christmas lights (and good bottles of

Photograph of clown in pain — “Pierrot in Pain,” albumen silver print from glass negative by Adrien Tournachon, person in photograph = Jean-Charles Deburau, 1854-55, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in the public domain.

wine) go a long way to distract one from the pain. Unfortunately, last week, it all went south, and we headed to the ER located conveniently up the hill from the house. Thought we found the answer there (after 7 hours of possible Covid exposure!), but NO. Talked to a number of my providers over a couple of days, but in the end, because medical practices of all kinds are overrun by the Coronacootie, I had to settle for an appointment later in the month with my rheumatologist.

But then there was Saturday and Dr…YouTube! While I’m always cautioning Tom and the kid about relying on and trusting Dr. Google, I was desperate. I was also starting to think that it was actually more of a mechanical problem rather than something internal. Long story longer, it looks like a really bad case of sciatica, much worse than anything I dealt with when I was pregnant all those years ago. (The kid’ll be 25 this year.) Did the right exercises and some targeted yoga, more ice, then fired up the hot tub. Life was much better by Saturday evening. I slept well for the first time in weeks. A couple of days later and I’ve backslid, but I think I’ve turned the first BIG corner. It’ll take awhile, but soon Bowyn and I hope to be back to our early morning walks in the Bosque.

What bothered me most – besides the pain and limited mobility, of course – was losing so much time making, creating. After all the holiday hoopla, by New Year’s I’m ready to hunker down with my journal/sketchbook and supplies to make new stuff. There’s a stitching project I’ve been mulling on for 2022; it needed more fleshing out. That didn’t happen. I wanted to start a new “Baby Boucherouite” to use in my In the Studio Workshop Week 4 class on January 30. Getting to draw that out today. Finally.

I did manage to finish the Angel of 2022, but haven’t gotten her up to the Etsy shop. Photographed her just yesterday. During that demoralizing Patriots game.

Hooked rug, hooked art — THE MIGHTY ONE, THE ANGEL OF 2022. Hooked with old t-shirts, plastic bags, gold lamé, and a wee bit of wool.

But I had a little epiphany in the hot tub Saturday evening. Maybe it was just the chardonnay whispering in a picture-perfect New Mexico sunset and a bubbly 103º, but it did tell me how great life is and can be when you stop and rest for a bit. Sure, there’s Omicron and all, but the folks in my bubble are all vaxxed and boosted, so it’s unlikely any of us will die if/when we catch Covid. The world won’t end if my yearlong project doesn’t start till February. Or because I haven’t hit 10,000 steps in three weeks.

Why is it that we need a crisis to remind us that we can’t control everything? And while we’re dealing with sed crisis, the rest of our lives rarely fall apart. Completely at least. The reality is that having time off from working out every morning has let me linger at breakfast reading the paper and having another cup of tea. Not racing onto the next rug has given me more time to practice crocheting. And Tom’s been taking good care of me, though I’m not sure if that’ll extend to encouraging the purchase of a pair of “pity shoes.” (I’ll let you know.)

“Acute Pain,” by Thomas Rowlandson, 1800, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in the public domain.

I beg you to learn from my pain-filled experience. Or don’t; feel free to enjoy your own. LOL. In this new year, take a little time to slow down before you break down. Remember that you cannot control the world, not even your own little part necessarily. You definitely can’t control people, not the ones on TV or Facebook or even the ones in your family. Just do what you need to do for you. Because if you don’t put that oxygen mask on first, you certainly can’t help someone else with theirs.

High on Hooking dog with crocheted and hooked art — Bowyn implores you: ” For the love of God, take care of yourself. Who the hell else will walk us?” Meanwhile, for a price, he shows off the things I’ve worked on in the past couple of weeks.

Which leads us into an advertisement for WORKSHOP WEEK 4 kicking off Sunday January with a class and panel discussion led by Susan Feller. Classes are filling, some are to capacity. Now is the time to do something for yourself. At home; no Covid exposure needed! We’ve got nine workshops running, all very different, not all involving hooking. Find more INFO HERE or send an email to me at Laura@highonhooking.com.

In the meantime, take a look at our Instagram page. The various artists/teachers have been taking over the account these past few weeks in order that you might get to know us. If you’re interested in a class or just someone’s pics, take the time to message or email them. You never know where a new skill or just a new contact might take you in 2022…

June 28, 2021

Retreat week

Supplies for being on retreat. — Retreat supplies: journal; pen; colored pencils; *String Felt Thread* by Elissa Auther; watercolor brush pens; iced tea; and great weather.

I’m officially on retreat.

As mentioned last week, my workshop up north at Ghost Ranch was postponed which was a pretty big bummer for me. But then I realized I had a whole week of days I’d kept unscheduled, thinking I’d be away. What to do with that time??? Given how distracted I’ve found myself these last few months (okay, really the last year+), I find that I need to step back and redefine what it is I want and need out of life. Sure, I’m hooking and teaching, but my attention has…wandered. My daily routine isn’t working, and productivity has been affected.

It’s not at all helped by so many local, national, and even global crises. The collapsed Maimi condo, race and gender issues, folks refusing to get vaccinated thereby prolonging the whole Covid thing, some family health difficulties, climate change which really hits home here in the desert Southwest… I seem to be catching my kid’s anxieties. That we spent over a week with temps in the 100s certainly didn’t enhance my mood. But you – I – can’t live like that, in dread all the time.

Last week after deciding on a couple of new projects – not hooking!!! – I grabbed my coupons and started out for Jo-Ann Fabrics to get supplies. It occurred again to me that it’s summer. A time for lighter things, as I also said last week. But this time I really heard myself. Remember how we used to feel in summer? Even when bad things were happening around the world? (The reality is that good and bad things are always happening.) I put some Jimmy Buffett on the Fit’s stereo and off we went.

Hooked rug — ABUNDANCE (15″ x 48″) is finished! As part of my retreat efforts to shake things up, I sewed yesterday morning rather than during the evening, my usual MO. She’s the newest in 2021’s #happyrugseries and was hooked with all kinds of fibers. And, yes, those are holes in her. Life takes from us, but we still have so much to share.

Friday evening Tom and I had a lovely time sipping wine at a local winery, Casa Rodeña here in Albuquerque. They have a pond. It was cool and calming. I realized that I could take the next week to change up my routine, get some things done that I’ve been planning but been too paralyzed to do. In short, get myself out of this funk.

I started yesterday by learning a new “trick.” Okay, a new fiber art medium. I’m very excited and will share down the road. I even used YouTube to learn how to do it. Generally, I prefer to learn in person, not via a video. Again, it’s about getting out of the comfort zone, something I used to do without thinking too much about it.

An article about the Ribbon Rug Journal is on the retreat’s to-do list. Planning my next rug for when I’ll be on the road in a couple of weeks. More sketching and journaling. Reading for pleasure and “work.” Getting back to morning yoga for my arthritis. Not on the list: vacuuming, cleaning the kitchen, meetings, a lot of social media, worrying…

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But life does still go on. To that effect – note that In the Studio’s Workshop Week 3 classes are filling. Sure, it’s not till October, and we have more events and teachers than ever, but folks want in. Also, my own workshop, Hooking with T-Shirts, on October 30, had enough interest that I opened a second session for Saturday, October 23, also at 1:00 PM Eastern. Email me if you’re interested.

Dogs, hooked rug — Both boys bring you WHAT’S ON THE FRAME today. No title for it yet, but it’s the #ecohooking rug in recycled plastic bags. I should’ve added Static Guard to my list of retreat supplies!

Is it just me or do I sense many stepping back a bit to reevaluate as we move back into a post-pandemic world?

March 31, 2020

So, we have a little time on our hands…

Old Japanese drawing of Amabie — The Japanese Amabie is a mythical creature with a message to defeat the coronavirus: “Good harvest will continue for six years from the current year; if disease spreads, show a picture of me to those who fall ill and they will be cured.” Coronavirus, take that! Read more about the Amabie here.

Like you, it appears that I have a little time on my hands. So much has changed EVERYWHERE ALL OVER THE WORLD since my last post. It boggles the mind. Or, like my daughter put it, “I really can’t process this.”

Luckily, the governor here in New Mexico was on the stick and started closing things down pretty early, before we had but a few cases of COVID-19. And we have a less dense population than larger metropolitan areas in the country, especially on the coasts. Even more fortuitously, Tom and I saw the writing on the wall and started ~~hoarding toilet paper~~ laying in supplies before the stores were mobbed. Best of all, I managed to get my hair cut the day before we pretty much closed down town. Score! (If you saw how I mangled my toenails a couple of days earlier, you’d appreciate this better.)

The reality is that our home is a pretty comfy place to be confined to. Not that we’re truly confined. We regularly walk in the bosque, the woods running along the Rio Grande near here. Trips to Walmart and Sprouts and even Costco aren’t forbidden, though I fear they’ll become more and more dicey as Albuquerque creeps closer to our peak viral load come the end of April. We have a freezer full of meat and frozen veggies, plenty of wine and olive oil (the latter being the original reason for our Costco membership; the former being an awesome benefit), a treadmill and bike, LOTS of dog food, books galore, and subscriptions to both Prime and Netflix. Best of all, both Tom and I are starting out healthy. That can’t be understated. Oh, and we even still like each other more than two weeks into social distancing from all other people.

Hooked version of the Amabie — Since the Amabie wants all artists to draw a picture of it, I provided a hooked version. It’s the March 19 entry to my **Ribbon Rug Journal**.

But I do miss my friends and the activities that keep me running around like rug hooking demos in the BioPark, guild meetings, time working with Susan’s Legacy, teaching, visiting and lunches out… This week’s excursions out of the house: 1) Walmart for longer term provisions and 2) the blood bank. If you can donate, call your local blood center or hospital; donations are desperately needed everywhere!

Truthfully, I’m glad to have this gift of time. Even though I don’t work-work any more, I have responsibilities that keep me engaged in the community at large. Frankly sometimes they feel overwhelming. Probably because I don’t work-work, parent full time, and do all that other stuff at the same time. My efficiency and tolerance are out of practice. A couple of weeks ago, when this all started, I thought, yes!, I can do all the things I’ve been putting off. I can spring clean and re-organize the cupboards and pantry. I can clear out the piles. Have I? Not at all. Although, in an initial burst of energy and enthusiasm, I did clean the master closet (containing clothes and

Hooked rug wall hanging — I did manage to finish punching “Desert Sun.” The frame is a recycled basket plate holder. Find it on our **Etsy shop**.

hooking supplies) and adjoining laundry room. That’s it. Turns out I haven’t even hooked as much as I normally would. Though most of my hooking gets done in the evening, I typically day-hook a couple of times a week with guild-mates and friends. Yeah, one afternoon of day-hooking all lock-down. I didn’t think my efficiency could be any lower, but without due dates and such…free fall.

Vending and teaching events are all cancelled. Who knows when we’ll be able to reschedule? Venues like the New Mexico Fiber Arts Center, already in a precarious financial situation, may even fail. If you love NMFAC, old EVFAC, like me, donate to it. You probably have your own favorite organizations; support them before you lose them.

Things look kind of bleak, but they have in the past too. Live in the moment and do the things you’ve been putting off. Call a relative stuck at home alone. Talk to an old friend. I did that yesterday for over an hour. Where else did I have to be? It felt great catching up. Make things, anything: a rug, a shawl, a short story, a cake, a garden. We all know that when we’re creative, our mental health improves.

Dog on hooked rug — Tynan gives you this weeks “Whats on the frame.” We’re hooking with old bed sheets again. Show us what’s on your frame. Or your easel or your hoop or your page. (Meanwhile he’s trying to impress on little brother Bowyn that it’s a major sin to even look at a toilet paper roll with lust in his heart.)

To conclude, your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to show us what you are making these days. Maybe you’ll provide a little inspiration to someone who needs it. I want to see a bunch of photos on the High on Hooking Facebook page. Or email them to Laura@highonhooking.com; I’ll share them. And let us know how you and yours are doing. Spouses, partners, kids, grand-kids, and pets. Love the pets! Use the gift of time to stay home, stay busy, and stay healthy!

February 19, 2019

Looking for rug love in the wine store…

Wine bottle label. — I have no idea who the artist is. Maybe you know? But isn’t it beautiful? Okay, wine is beautiful too.

Rug love in the wine store?

I’ll explain. I’m having a busy week. Big surprise, I know. But I was trying to figure out something new and exciting (and quick) to write about when Tom and I headed out to the liquor store. A snowstorm was taking aim at Albuquerque, and we were running low. Before you scoff, I’m from New England and lived through the Blizzard of ’78; snow forecasts = a run to the ~~grocery~~ store. By the way, we got almost an inch and a half today. I know, wow.

So, we’re in Total Wine, and I remember how I’ve gotten rug ideas from wine labels. Some of them are so creative, even beautiful. Then I thought that maybe you need rug ideas right about now. Especially for those of you back east and in the midwest who will live through your own winter storm tonight and tomorrow. Enjoy!

Wine bottle labels. — Another of Sean’s gorgeous and fun wine bottles.

Whiskey bottle label. — Okay, I’ll end with a pic of the elusive **jackalope** gracing this bottle of **whiskey**. Now something like this could make it onto a rug. And don’t lecture me about the pesky copyright laws. I know all about them. Have a great week. Maybe I’ll pour myself a ~~bottle~~ glass of wine now…

October 11, 2017

Art as Solace

The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possible can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”
― Kurt Vonnegut Jr., A Man Without a Country

The murders in Las Vegas last week…

The lives, homes, and livelihoods lost to the fires in California… A guild-mate’s son and his wife evacuated from their home…

Puerto Rico and Mexico City and other areas that are still drowning without the basic necessities of life today…

Friends living day-to-day with health issues… And threatening insurance issues…

The anxieties of what seems to be a whole generation of children… Including mine..

Last week we were trying to wrap our minds around what would make one man angry enough to kill as many people as he possibly could. This week: still no answer. Meanwhile the political climate in the country drops farther into the toilet, and a President smugly tells reporters that he has a North Korean secret, Na-a-na-na-na! Americans are a nervous bunch these days.

Art as consolation — Image from http://www.punediary.com/quotes/2016/10/art-life-heartbreak-vicent-van-gogh-quotes/.

Everyone’s worn out from disasters, the natural ones and the man-made. Weekends, I’ve taken to not bothering with the news other than what I read in the paper and see on my home page. I’ve got to take a breather from the barrage of awfulness coming in. I’d much prefer to head off to the mountains – and we’ve got plenty of those to choose from here in New Mexico – to hike and hide in a cabin for a few ~~months~~ days. Not happening. For one thing, my rheumatoid arthritis has been acting up, screwing with my lower back. Time to try a new medication. I’m lucky; I have a good health plan we can afford and a good rheumatologist. But she can’t help with the other problem. Tom and I lost our empty-nester status last week. The kid’s back…

Maybe you read the post on August 16, “Studio under construction.” Then again, maybe you didn’t. Long story short. Kid stormed/moved out in March. Tom and I left the room for months, assuming she’d be back before long. Finally, in August, we (meaning Tom; I told you my RA was getting uppity) patched the holes in the walls and painted. Because I’ve outgrown my kick-ass walk-in closet and laundry room as far as hooking materials storage goes, I ordered the big IKEA shelves with cubbies. I was getting me a studio!

You know, somewhere just after that the hurricanes started. Why, why did I think that it would all go down the way we planned? Even before the shelves were delivered (a few days late, I might add), the stories of roommate and other issues started in earnest. Texts appeared on my phone after 10 p.m. Like a phone call in the early morning, those are never good. And…suddenly she and her minivan were back.

I’ll give her, she’s neater this time. So far. And there’s less yelling. So far. It appears that she learned that Mom and Dad don’t necessarily make the worst roommates. The devil you don’t know can be…the devil! So, no studio. Tom and I are off to Lowe’s tonight to check out shelving for the laundry room. That’ll help with my explosion of t-shirts, wool, ribbon, frames, and other hooking paraphernalia.

In the meantime, I hook. And not just because I have three more selling dates before the end of the year and an inventory is soon due into the Española Valley Fiber Arts Center. Nope. I hook because I can control whether or not I hook and what I hook. Color, design, materials: those are all up to me. I hook to distract myself from the things I cannot control: natural disasters; US politics and all they affect; gun violence; illness – my own or others’; my child’s anxieties and her struggle to become an adult. I hook to create something NOT BAD. More than that, I hook to ensure that there’s just a little more beauty in my world today than there was yesterday.

Art becomes diary-like, following and documenting the shifts in popular and not so popular culture, art encourages us to not just look at the past but to look forward to the future and to exist in a moment.

–Erin Veness

Art as solace. — Tynan doesn’t make art. He presents it for me. But that’s okay; he and all dogs are their own special form of consolation for human beings.

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