Category: writing

May 23, 2018

Ramblings and little epiphanies. Or: change happens.

After a super busy two months of fiber art shows and vending, spending a slow three days at Casa San Ysidro last weekend demonstrating and attempting to sell gave me some down time, a chance to think, to come to a few epiphanies.

Hooked rug exhibit, what a change for us. — This was the kick-ass set-up that Cathy and I had at last week’s **Heritage Days** and **New Mexican Fiber Crawl**, both happening at Casa San Ysidro in **Coralles**. They were very generous in providing us space; what a change for us! Though we both made sales, we hope that next year there will be more vendors and better publicizing of our location in the Crawl.

Hooking and husbands
Cathy Kelly and I would have a wicked hard time (yes, there’s still some New England twang left in this now Southwestern girl) vending without our husbands Bill and Tom. (Sorry, never got any pics of them Sunday evening.) Between my recent RA flare-up and Cathy’s emergency appendicitis (the same night as our last vending gig!), those display grids were not going up or down by themselves. Thank you, Bill! Tom, unfortunately, has been suffering his own autoimmune failure – gout – for the last two or three weeks, but he gamely showed up with iced tea and helped with break-down. Hooking – it’s best when it involves a village, but it’s nothing without a helpful spouse.

Living or reading about living?
During last weekend’s New Mexico Fiber Crawl, we were at Casa San Ysidro from about 9:15 to 5:00. Those were three long days, and we didn’t see the traffic we expected. But what a great place to hang and hook! By the time I made it home each evening, though, my laptop was the last place I wanted to be. So, I wasn’t. Lo and behold, the world didn’t cave in because I didn’t share as much on the three Facebook pages I manage (my own two and the guild’s). Don’t get me wrong. I managed to do most of my daily computer and email “toilettte” on my phone as I sat enjoying the weather and the ambiance of the old casa’s courtyard. But I didn’t worry much about passing anything further down the information highway. Sure, if a blog or Facebook post came along that had an easy share button, I’d click it away to others. If not, oh, well…

Hooked rug — Here’s how “Zinnias” looked finished. Now to get them up on the **Etsy shop**.

This got me to thinking about how tethered I am to seeing info and, more importantly, passing it on. Which I generally think is a nice thing to do for everyone. But it takes time, time I want back. Summer is perfect for letting go of the self-imposed idea of me as the town crier. After this weekend’s Rail Yards Market, I’ll have a couple of months with only one gig each before fall festivals and such heat up again. I have products to make, a BIG rug on the Anderson frame, a friendship rug to finish, and a whole slew of new ideas running through my brain after I turn off my light each night. And…I think it’s finally time to try some weaving. Starting with a triangular loom, but it’s a start.

So…actually working, playing, and experimenting more are on tap this summer, less so reading and passing on other folks’ work, play, and experiments, much as I like to do all that. Don’t take it personally, anyone. And thank goodness that Instagram only requires pressing that little ♥ button. We won’t even mention my late night Pinterest habit right now.

Change happens
Awhile back I mentioned how I really wanted to get back to writing short fiction. I spent years writing and even had some bits published. It was creative and incredibly challenging. But emotional family issues got in the way making it difficult to access the place in my head where

Succulent garden. After little epiphanies. Change happens. — Not about writing or even hooking. Just about freeing your time up to do the things you want to do, making a change. I was getting pretty testy; with everything going on, Tom and I hadn’t managed to plant anything this spring. We live in New Mexico; it all could’ve gone into the ground or pots over a month ago! Finally did some today like this mini-succulent garden. We managed it without the usual domestic squabbles that crop up when we do this kind of thing. Even after another very prickly cactus kept biting us.

stories came from. Hooking showed up too, gradually taking up more and more of my available time. Frankly, making rugs, visual art, is easier for me, and it’s been quite healing. Still, every few months I’d beat myself up and drag out the pen and paper. It’s part of who I am I’d tell myself. After countless false re-starts, though, sometimes we have to grasp that CHANGE REALLY HAPPENS, and I think I’ve finally gotten to a point in my life where I can admit that writing short stories is more about who I was. It’s a hard thing to admit, but it’s where I am NOW. And it’s rather freeing. Fiber art’s it for me right now. I’m happily looking into things to become better at and new techniques to try. Maybe I’ll even pick up my journal again now that I can ignore the guilt monster. Even better, it gives me more time to read. There are so many great books out there just waiting for me!

Like I said , ramblings… Nothing earth-shattering; in fact, most is stuff I already knew, but so often we need a good reminder about just those very everyday things in our lives. Three quiet days can give you that, can remind you of the life you really want to live.

Happy Memorial Day, all! Remember those who should be remembered. And enjoy this first summer weekend.

Dog with hooked rugs. No change for Tynan. — Tynan’s back with this week’s “What’s on the frame.” It’s three mug rugs destined for Sunday’s Rail Yards Market here in Albuquerque. After that, I’ll have a bit of a break and finally be able to clean up all the clutter-piles that have collected around the house these past two months. Tom’s been very patient, but don’t tell him I said that. Usually, I’m the clean one.

November 30, 2016

Looking for INSPIRATION?

If you’re into any sort of creative endeavor, I suspect, like mine, you’re eyes are always open trying to find new sources of inspiration. In my case, I find the muse in all sorts of places including:

nature, especially here on New Mexico’s high desert;
On the road to Taos there’s all kinds of inspiration to see.
poetry and other literature;
music;
Pinterest (also a handy place to park stuff I find online);
trade and other art-type books;
the works and designs of others (seen in person at museums and markets as well as online); and
magazines (I have a serious, serious addiction much to Tom’s chagrin).

So, I get all jazzed when I find something new, especially something interactive. Because, of course, I have all sorts of time for new things to do – NOT! Nonetheless, my new inspiration habit-in-the-making is completely worthwhile for a couple of reasons.

First – what am i talking about?

If you’ve liked my Facebook page, you’ve probably noticed that I try to share daily blog posts that I receive from, amongst others, rug hookers and other fiber artists. One of those is written by Kate Gillery of Briar Cottage Studio in Pittsburgh. No, I’ve never met or even corresponded with her, but she creates some nifty punch needle projects, and I know that many of you are into punch needle. Don’t know why, but one day I delved more into her website, noticing a page entitled SKETCHBOOK. Turns out it’s a blog of sorts itself!

In Sketchbook, Kate provides a one-word prompt each day. Here’s today’s:

Daily Challenge

Quick sketch no more than 15 minutes.

First thought that comes to mind from a random word chosen from the internet.

The word today is: TEDDY BEAR

***

Kate also provides a sketch that she herself did; today’s includes a cute, little bear who looks like he belongs in a baby’s nursery.

Second – what am I getting out of this prompt?

Here’s the thing: While I dutifully grab my journal and pen each morning, I don’t necessarily draw anything. Rather, these prompts are pretty much like many I’ve done as writing exercises, take the prompt (be it a word, phrase, photo, whatever) and free-write for fifteen minutes. Or more, if the going is good. Sometimes you might extract a decent story from it all.

Here’s a mug rug set I finished up just yesterday. The mugs are the inspiration. Hm, can I find a mug that inspires a teddy bear rug?

Many of you know that until hooking started filling up so many of my hours, I wrote some fiction, was published in a couple of anthologies, even placed in some contests. I’m also an assistant editor for Fifth Wednesday diligently working (okay, it’s a labor of love, no pay) to find tomorrow’s great new authors. The last year I’ve been trying to make time to write, but failing miserably. Since I found Kate’s prompts, I’ve managed to do some creative writing most days. Woohoo for me! Sometimes I actually do a sketch to go with what I write, but that’s not the point. What’s important is that I’m stretching my mind in a new way – well, really an old way for me – and I’m really enjoying it.

***

That’s it. Simply that I’m enjoying something creative that’s also inspiring me. Take a look at Kate’s page and maybe you’ll find a muse in it too.

What are your go-to sources of inspiration?

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February 9, 2016

Playing a little hooky, creatively

It’s Tuesday, a perfect day for playing a little hooky. I know it’s also blog-duty day, but maybe we can fudge that a little in the name of unbelievably nice winter weather and creativity. Especially when I think of what I wrote last week vis à vis creativity and my re-burgeoning need to write.

This morning, while the kid was at work and the husband was out at some doctor’s appointment, I took up pen and paper and set forth to write fake stuff – fiction, that is – once more. I gave myself a prompt I’d collected (I keep them on my Pinterest page, if you’re interested) and wrote till I heard the garage chimes ringing that Tom was home. It was a good start. Tonight the journal comes out after the dinner dishes are cleared.

The afternoon hitting 60 degrees here in west Albuquerque (sorry to all those who might be finding their own climate a little chilly), after lunch Tom and the dog and I headed down to the Bosque (the forest along the Rio Grande) to check out the local wildlife. Got so warm, I had to take off my sweatshirt.

The Rio Grande as it flows through Albuquerque. Those are the Sandia Mountains in the background. I’m thinking that I’ll have to do a landscape piece sometime soon. See, playing a little hooky is good for one’s creativity.

Tonight it’s back to pulling loops. My March 1 deadline to have this current piece done is quickly approaching, and there’s still some project infrastructure I haven’t figured out. Just trying to get the major hooking done first.

Praying that the old Clairol will come through for me... — Praying that the old Clairol will come through for me…

Tomorrow’s creative endeavor: Early this morning, before I sat down to write, I did my monthly-or-so coloring of the grays. I hate dying my hair. Hell, I haven’t even tackled dying the t-shirts I hook with. Tried a new shade. And changed to L’Oreal when I had been a Clairol kind of girl. Very bad idea. I’m a natural redhead. Or I used to be. Currently, I’m more Lucy meets a violet crayon; the box called the color it “Ruby Rush.” Yeah. Made a call back to Maurice in Rhode Island: “What do I do?!!!?” Then took a trip to Walgreens to pick up the old Clairol. Back to the dying board tomorrow.

How’s creativity going for you these days?

February 4, 2016

Catching the creativity fever…again

Many of us attending Artful Threads powerfully desired this hand-painted silk scarf. — Many of us attending Artful Threads powerfully desired this silk scarf hand painted by Cheri Reckers.

Speaking about creativity – we were, yes? – lately I’ve been noticing a LOT of synchronicity going on. Two weeks ago, three AWAG (guild) members and I headed off to Tucson for the hook-in down that way. Last weekend, I participated in a hooking demo at Artful Threads with creative women in Belen, New Mexico. Various fiber arts were demonstrated in one of the cooler sites I’ve visited since moving here.

A Grenfell-style mat by ____ offered at Artful Threads as a raffle gift. — A Grenfell-style mat by Vi Darcy offered at Artful Threads as a raffle gift.

There was a ginormous rail yard next to the Harvey House Museum where we were. This week there’s a fiber sale happening as part of Artful Threads; I’m taking Tom with me if only so that he can see more of the state we now call home . He’ll love all the trains coming and going.

Meanwhile, I’m seeing all kinds of creativity memes and such on Facebook. Just today I saw this from writer Julia Cameron:

As artists, the creative dream we move toward is often visible to us– but invisible to those around us.

Go on, create, bring forth what’s in you no matter what the naysayers or your spouse or parents say. They’re too myopic or maybe just too busy doing their own thing to see the highway you’re traveling on.

And don’t be afraid you won’t be good at your art, whatever it might be. Jon Marro‘s I’MPERFECT reminds us not to get caught up in a quest for perfection. Salvador Dali does likewise.

Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it.

So keep working, reaching for your own particular star in your own particular medium be it hooking or painting or writing or dancing or bowling or… Forget the fear of not being as good as someone else, even if that person appears perfect. I mean, should we all stop hooking just because our mats and rugs don’t look like Deanne Fitzpatrick‘s or Susan Feller‘s or Lynn Stein‘s or any other artist’s work we see in Rug Hooking Magazine? Of course not! Use them as inspiration for your own pieces.

The New York Times even has a terrific article about raising creative children. Read it here.

But what’s really brought all this creativity talk home to me is Elizabeth Gilbert‘s book,

Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. In late December or early January Beth Miller of Parris House Wool Works in Maine created a Hooks and Books live action and online book club. The first book she proposed was Gilbert’s. What the hell, I thought. I don’t have a book club here. So, I read it.

Much of what Gilbert says in the book is the butt-in-the-chair, labor of love shit that I would call preaching to the choir of creative folks who would typically buy this book. BUT, I’m in a place in my life where I’m actually able to appreciate what she has to say. The bit about combinatory play especially resounded. Combinatory play, Gilbert writes, is “the act of opening up one mental channel by dabbling in another.”

I used to write fiction a lot more than I hooked. Then life became vastly more complicated, particularly with a child having anxiety, emotional, behavioral, and academic issues. Preparing for a move across country didn’t make it any less so. Our emotions in the house were up and down, fighting and flighting. During those years, I moved more into hooking. Even though I design my own rugs, it was a hell of a lot easier in the evening (because that is when I would have time for such personal endeavors) to hook than to contemplate plots and character to write an actual story. I have continued as an assistant editor at Fifth Wednesday, a kick-ass lit journal out of Chicago – I read the slush pile – but it’s always more stress-free to read someone else’s work than to write my own stuff. Plus, I consider it my way of giving back to literature, another labor of love.

Since we’ve moved, though, I’ve been feeling the tug of writing again. I’ve even had some fits of starting and stopping. But I hear the call, and it’s only getting stronger. Maybe it’s because the kid’s graduated from high school (thank you, God!) and has started working (bless you, Target!), and we’ve mostly settled into the new house. Meanwhile, there’s a small but active hooking community out here in in Albuquerque that’s been incredibly welcoming. They’re very open to my less-than-traditional way of hooking. Between them, the scenery, and all the art out here, my own creativity idea well is starting to really fill up again. Or maybe that well is just more accessible now. I’m 51 and I get to re-invent myself to some degree, dump some of my own insecurities, and just explore what I am at this moment: a writer and a hooker.

A friend recently looked at some of my hooking on Facebook and asked a question that gave the writer in me goose bumps.

“Do you hide secrets in your hooking?”

How would you respond?

The rug currently on my frame. What exactly am I hiding in it? Or will I hide in it? — The rug currently on my frame. What’s hiding in it?

November 11, 2015

Frustration, artistic and otherwise

"Difficult" yarn to the left. Size N/15 needle/hook. Much friendlier yarn on the right. — “Difficult” yarn to the left. Size N/15 needle/hook. Much friendlier yarn on the right.

It was supposed to be a brief break from hooking, still creative, still fiberific; instead it was an exercise in frustration. To give my hands a rest, I’d made a detour in Walmart (where I am now forced to do part of my weekly grocery shopping – grrr…) and headed to the craft aisles to pick up some yarn and a crochet hook. No biggie. My aunt taught me how to crochet when I was in sixth grade or so, and I’d picked up that hook now and again throughout the decades. Last time I’d even made myself a lovely shawl, using filet crochet and beading. This time all I wanted to do was a simple cowl-like scarf. How hard could it be?

Plenty, it turned out. I’d chosen a big novelty yarn, one that had a lot of…fluff, for lack of another word. But with double crochet, how hard could it be? Even with the giant needle I’d purchased. Again, plenty. I couldn’t see all my stitches. The little “hairs” tangled making it difficult to even pull errant stitches out. My rows weren’t even. After ripping multiple attempts out over and over again, I finally declared, “Enough!” Despite all my assumptions and confidence, I was a crochet washout. The years had finally caught up with me.

Not! Having to be out and about yesterday afternoon – another source of frustration, having to teach the kid to drive – I had my chauffeur take me to Michaels where they have plenty of less complicated yarns. While she headed to the Dunkin Donuts next door (you can take the girl out of New England, but you CANNOT take Dunkin Donuts out of the Massachusetts-born and -bred girl), I ran in for the yarn. After perusing a bit, I found a nice multicolored, kind of chenille skein. Very nice. On sale too. Always a plus. So, tomorrow night, after I purchase yet another needle… The new one is too big, and I haven’t unpacked my old ones. They must be hidden away in some hooking boxes.

I’d start it tonight, but I’m treating myself to a solo trip to Barnes and Noble’s cafe. To write. I’m one of those people who needs to be alone when I start a short story. The other people who live in my house are in the house ALL THE TIME! Worse, they want my attention. Being home, therefore, is not conducive whatsoever to writing anything more than a Facebook post or maybe a blog entry. (Presumably, a blog post is completely true and not fictional at all.) There may be others in B&N’s cafe, but I can ignore them, chalk them up to white noise in a way I just can’t at home. Hence, I’m off for a different kind of artist’s date. And I will drive myself, thank you very much.

Wool strips, though the pumpkin itself is hooked from llama yarn. — Wool strips, though the pumpkin itself is hooked from very fun, very orange llama yarn.

Lest you think hooking’s been neglected, I’ve been having some fun with the Bliss cutter guild-mate Linda lent me. I’ve chosen to cut by hand for so many years that it’s quite the luxury. To that affect, I’ve been laying down wool strips in a quickly drawn up pattern. I’ll let you know how I feel about using such “even” strips. I fear I might find the preciseness somewhat stifling, that my true Type A (for anal) personality might come out in a way I try to avoid in hookling, the one place I feel free to be…well, free.

As my pumpkin indicates, even here in Albuquerque fall’s very definitely arrived. Our leaves are changing colors and even blowing off in the wind. We’ve had a first killing frost. The sandhill cranes, our resident snow birds, are flying in. Can’t wait to see that. Apparently, they hang around the Rio Grande for the winter. Pics to follow!

What strategies do you use when things are working out like you planned? Can you call someone? Go online? Spill your secrets here; help a gal out. And while you’re commenting, are you a precise hooker or more “anything goes”?