It took me a while to figure this title.
The words "mothering" and "creative" are becoming interchangeable and one of the same now.
Inspired by Rumi's quote"Let the beauty of what you love be what you do."
I've seen it shortened to "Do what you love what you do."
Which has become my motto over the years.
I've been wanting to get back into posting more like I used to but my head space has been limited.
So this extra long post feels oh so good to just share with you various things I've been tinkering with here and there.
When motherhood was approaching I knew everything would change completely. I feared never getting back to these spaces I so love and feel so much like myself.
I also feared that if I spent time in my creative spaces, it meant I was being neglectful and not a loving mom. I've been stewing over these thoughts for a long time.
My boy is now 8.5 months old and just started crawling this week.
And I believe he's trying to cut his 7th tooth.
It's a lot.
With the help and encouragement of my husband, family members and friends simply modeling to me how they managed their self care in general, I soon realized part of my self care is continuing to grow and nurture my creative self.
To mother it.
I recognize now I only have tiny moments in between my tiny human's needs.
I've let go of expecting long uninterrupted hours of time to myself. I knew it was coming and I tried to prepare myself.
It's always been hard for me to put aside expectations. Or to even adjust/change them. But I'm working on it. And I think something is giving way, on my end, and it feels good. Like a relief even.
When I step outside the house, cross our muddy lawn, spotted with chicken poop and tufts of grass from our almost winter and into my studio, my endorphins light up and the tension in my upper back eases. I breath in the smell of this old space, once a garden shed, now insulated and painted white but with the original floor.
Someday we'll add more new windows and add trim and sills.
The wood, my burst iron liquor glass jar (whoops!), my oil paints.
I look at my newly organized chaos of painting and dye equipment.
My new but old Kessenich floor loom.
Just a few corners of my studio.
My lichen jars.
|this is pinker in person. a latge jar of xanthoria fermenting.|
With baby monitor and coffee in hand, I feel both spacey and giddy but I get down to business. There's no time for staring off into space wondering how I should get started.
I soak my yarn. Clean a pot for the cota. Fill the pot with water. Set it onto the heat.
I start my fermented indigo vat.
Grind the madder root.
Weigh out my ingredients with the help of an Aurora Silks tutorial on a natural indigo fermentation vat. Which I've been dreaming about doing since 2011 ever since my neighbor who passed said loom onto me told me about this recipe.
I'm really excited about this and I have it set up in my house with a box lined with foil and our chick light.
I'm just starting to feel a soothing flow of creative energy and concentration when it happens.
A squawk and a cry.
A grunt and a coo.
It's been 30 minutes.
My heart sinks.
I breath and gather myself for accepting what is.
I wait a few more minutes.
Turn off the burner. Head inside.
I pause in his doorway and see he's still in his resting position, on his belly, with arms and legs tucked under him, like a frog.
I wait, looking at him. I realize he's pooping.
And I can see he also wants to sleep.
I head in anyway.
We start our process of hugs, change, tickles, play, breakfast, nap.
He goes down like a champ. I'm scattered even more then before but I see my window of open opportunity and I charge forward.
After his next nap, we take a walk.
As short as it was getting outside, it made all the difference for both of us.
It is so easy to forget that our little humans really doesn't need much. Not like we do.
I'm an over thinker by nature but this guy is teaching me to just dive in, stay present, and to be better organized.