It’s a new year in a new city and I have big dreams. I find January always prompts a bit of naval gazing – you know, the belly button type, not the hot looking man in a sailor suit. I digress.
Mostly I’ve been pondering what in God’s name makes me so obsessed with craft? It seems I’m not alone here, there’s something that compels sane women all over the world to dive into projects with gay abandon. Something that makes us swoon over fabric, felt, yarn and new crafty accessories.
The thing is…
Craft time is me time. It’s a quiet moment. The passing of time. A smile in the mind. An antidote to the craziness of the world.
Craft is a journey. It takes courage to embrace the beautiful imperfection of handmade. The tiny uneven stitches. The “design features”. The un-picking. The weaving ends in.
Are we all mad?
I don’t think so. To make is to be human. It’s global, primal and wonderful. The necessity of making is long gone, we craft these days because we want to. Using our hands is almost a luxury, an indulgence in precious time and gorgeous materials.
The satisfaction I get from crafting can’t be measured. It’s a joy that can’t be compared and certainly can’t be bought. I treasure the doing as much as having done. You see to me it’s not just making stuff. It’s making happy. And a handmade gift? Well that’s simply love made visible.
Does this ring true for you? How did you feel last time you made something with your hands? I’d love to hear your thoughts on why you craft and why you love it, or hate it?