riding the creative tortoise

There is no internet at my house this morning.

Happily none of my yarn-centric work relies on a computer, but The Gusset is a creature of bits and bytes and as I type I wonder how these words will get to you.

Luckily I started putting this together yesterday—uploading photographs and drawings and such—assuming that today I’d find words to express something or other about this moment of in between-ness I seem to be in.

In betweenness of the season I mean, and of my projects.

Yet here I am with no way to send them even if they (the words), show up.

But perhaps that’s the nature of being between things—everything is a little uncertain. For without Big Creative Projects to keep the weighty demands of real life at a slight distance (because nothing is quite as important as the unfolding of said projects), what is a gal to do?

Apparently, she’ll traipse all over town looking for the proper cassette with which to fix the dripping bathroom faucet, that’s what she’ll do

She’ll also be glad when the sky turns blue and Beryl poops and the fellow at the plumbing shop knows just what is needed and is able to order it— and she’ll note that it is no big deal to brush her teeth at the kitchen sink until the parts come in.

On another day she’ll tackle (some of), the pruning she’s been avoiding.

And she’ll be glad of this too—not only glad to get it done, but thrilled to catch a rare glimpse of the hamadryad,¹ a thing that turns her mood around in a moment and reminds her that the magical-seeming creature in the tree is also herself, and that it might behoove her to stop talking about them (the grumpy pruner and the tree nymph), in the third person.

So she did— venturing into the baking of my very fourth loaf of naturally leavened bread² from a more upbeat place. I was still nervous of course, for I have much to learn about the wants and desires of my yeasty friends, and this particular way of working with flour, water, salt and time is not without its elusive and slightly intimidating mystique.

But I managed to make a loaf that’s not too shabby— at least not when slathered with butter or avocado or dear R’s delicious grapefruit marmalade—and will shyly post its photo here because the making of it was ridiculously compelling. And I’m all in favor of compelling things.

Because once I’m out in it I remember that this is the fun of real life—this bumping into moments of uncertainty and active dismay and being there as they transform into satisfaction, or even bashful desire.

Those moments when suddenly there is a shadow, a pencil, a texture, or a quality of light—

—and without really realizing it, I’m fully engaged and doing a thing.

And then doing it again.

And even as I know it could be seen as slightly absurd to believe so completely in flour and water and pencils and ink and four letter words and roadside weeds, and the efficacy of screwdrivers and nymphs in trees—

—I choose to believe in them anyway, and let myself devote uncountable hours³ to things I know nothing about—just because, or just in case.

Cuz to find out where I’m going—

—I have to begin.

And look! The internet is back. I wonder where it was and if it had a good time while it was gone. I hope so.

Remember to comment with the button above rather than by hitting reply, for if you choose the latter I won’t see your lovely words.

And if you know anyone who might enjoy these meanderings—and prefers the slow path themselves—please do click the button below.

1. hamadryad

2. I can hardly call it sourdough because my energetic starter (which I’ve mostly used to make hotcakes and crackers), is hardly tangy at all.

3. Speaking of time, I wanted to mention this marvelous new book by my friend Tommye McClure Scanlin: Marking Time with Fabric and Thread. I was lucky enough to get to write the forward and read it in draft form—and now I can hardly wait to see it in person. There is no need for me to go into the details when you can click the link and read the publishers words in greater and more eloquent detail— and I’m sure I’ll talk about it more as it gets closer to actual publication in October—but it is a topic close to my heart and I’m delighted all these marvelous thoughts will soon be out in the world.