Monday, January 11, 2010



Sometimes my life seems to resemble my studio after a creating marathon. Scattered with threads and bits of fabric, paint and glue out of place, scissors...who knows where, patterns, notes, sketches...everywhere, and the children's corner nook not so contained to the corner. And there I am...sitting in the middle totally overwhelmed. Not oblivious to the beauty in the fabric stacked (and laying) all around, or the potential and possibilities all around me. Yet lost as to how to put it all back in order.

Where to start? Should I rearrange things? Should that shelf really be over there? How do I turn it into a peaceful, productive, and thriving creative space again. And so I sit...picking up countless threads on my clothing no doubt.

Yes...sometimes my life is frightfully like this studio.

Today however I happened upon something in Blog land that swept away some of those threads scattered all over the floor. It surprised me that it affected me so profoundly. But I am grateful. I stopped by this blog for the first time recently. The space Rebeka's has created is impressive and this post chronicling many of her projects through 2009 is amazing. It truly inspired me to look at my studio and the things that come out of it in a new way. In thumbnail images all in a grid as a matter of fact.

Have you ever looked at all that you have accomplished over a period of time all scrunched in together like that? It's marvelous. So much of a mothers work can't be chronicled and documented like that. There is no tally sheet or record book for kisses given, books read, quality time spent, tears dried, lessons taught, etc. My life, is first and foremost the life of a mother. But I am also an artist. And a creative life...that can be chronicled. Works can be gathered, photographed, documented, squished in together and marveled at.

The work of the hands is beautiful. It gathers up all those bits of fabric all over the floor, sends supplies back to their space, and gears up that studio for more creating. a mother, as a daughter, as a wife, as a sister, or as a creating. And it is beautiful. And even though the “studio” is a bit of a disaster area at times it still holds the memories of creation, and the infinite possibilities for more goodness.