what’s in the works

Each Wednesday, I take stock of the projects I’m working on, and where my brain is at.

Full brain. Busy week.
Writing. Reading. Weaving.

Another week of playing with color.
Experimenting and exploring.
In a different form this week.

No knitting. No crochet.
Not peaking at colors through a layer of black and white.
Not swatching and swatching and swatching.

Well, swatching –
but one long giant woven swatch.
A pile of yarns.
Beautiful colorways in and of themselves,
mixed and combined and woven together –
literally.

I borrowed a friend’s ridged heddle loom,
and spent Halloween exploring the depth of color that can be found in a single colorway.

A beautiful, beige-tan color.
Not one of my normal colors – not at all.
But it was already warped,
and excellent for practicing.

Not my yarn. Not my color.
And I thought it was just a whatever color.
But it’s not.

Maybe no color is a whatever color.
I think no color is a bad color –
at least not in the right circumstances.

So maybe no color is a whatever color either –
at least not in the right circumstances.

Each Wednesday, I take stock of the projects I’m working on.

I’m tired this morning. It’s gloomy outside.
I’ve worked on no craft projects this week. And typing isn’t very photogenic.

I haven’t figured out how to type & knit (or sew, or embroider) at the same time.
And most of my free time this week, was spent sorting through my wardrobe.

It turns out,
that after leaving your clothes in a drawer for a year,
sorting through them is pretty easy.

So this week has left me with,
a pile of clothes & stuff to go to housingworks,
yarn forming into piles – projects at their tentative beginnings,
many typed words,
many deleted words,
and a love affair with the enter key.

I thought about not posting this morning.

But not working on a project,
is part of working on it.

Space and distance and rest,
coming back with fresh eyes,
– part of any creative process.

And if Wednesdays are for taking stock of the projects I’m working on,
then isn’t noticing the times of non-progress,
part of the process of taking stock?

And in reality,
I have worked on a project – all week long,
that ebook about color
that’s passing from the realm of ideas,
where anything is possible
and coming down to land in reality,
with all it’s constraints.

But that passage is messy,
and on a super gloomy Wednesday morning,
all that typing doesn’t feel like progress at all.

I’ve written enough things that I know that this is just part of it
(for me).
It’s just where I’m at,
and it prompts me to appreciate the objective progress,
of creating things with hands and fiber.

I don’t need cheering up or motivation,
though I’d love company in the comments,
and any thoughts you’ve thunk on making/creating/creativity/etc.