Recently, The World of Interiors in their recent issue, March 2011 also published an article with photos of this story and again I was moved by its history. The mothers would leave a swatch of clothing or something that would connect them back to their child should they ever return to claim him or her. The Foundling Museum decided to present these textiles in an exhibit called “Threads of Feeling”. For further information the website is here.

In my stitching for Jude’s class at Spiritcloth I had seen her stitch a similar strip and it reminded me of the token swatches left behind. I sewed some of my oldest pieces to a torn strip of silk and cotton voile leaving the scars of wear showing or the places where the dart or gather used to be in some of the velvets. I have an application for this in the near future, and I like the way it carries some history of cloth in its shadow of mystery. There is something so solid and deeply rooted in this string of patches.

On Wednesday morning I headed up I-5 to Olympia in the snow and rain to meet my a blogging friend, Julia. It is funny how we perceive some of this social media. When I told my youngest daughter what I was doing her response was, “Is it safe, Mom?” I think most of us who blog for creative expression find like-minded souls that we trust and feel a connection. For my meeting with Julia this was immediate.

Julia is just like her blog, full of energy, life, joy, curiosity, and intelligence. I trusted she would be this, and I was not disappointed. We who meet on blogs are pretty amazing people, and what fun it was to meet Julia, her husband, three adorable cats, and see where she creates all of her art. Her whole house and life is dedicated to this kind of creative energy and focus. I felt like I could not rest my eyes on any one thing, there was so much to see and take in. All wonderful! Her husband has his share of the house dedicated to his creative ventures that are equally as focused and fascinating. Julia is all the wonderful things you guess she might be and more. I urge anyone who is contemplating meeting a fellow blogger to go with the hunch of your positive instincts.

Recently I was reading another blog (and that is another subject for another post), and came across a reference from Twyla Tharp’s wonderful and inspiring book, The Creative Habit. I am devouring the book a second time. Every morning, before my walk, I sit down with a cup of coffee and Twyla. I write in another journal the things that inspire me while I read as well as some of the ideas and quotes from the book.

It has been my habit for years to write my name and the date when I finish a book, just to help me recall when or sometimes if I had read it. Once in a while, not too often, I will go back and re-read a book. When I do, I find all kinds of ideas and inspirations that seem new to me. Did I forget or did I grow in such a way that I see things differently now? I think it is a combination of both, but I did not recall the excitement that I have now in this second reading. I highly recommend this book.

This photo was taken in Massena, New York when I was probably three. It has the seeds of my creative DNA. I see them loud and clear. Whenever I am doubtful about who I am or what matters to me, I go and look at this picture, and it clearly spells things out to me. My mother used to tell me a story when I reached adulthood, a story she often repeated, about my love of dolls, but not just any doll. When I was very young and would be given a doll as a gift, I would pick it up and stare at the face for the longest time. If I did not like what I saw there I would put it down and never touch it again. If I liked the expression I would carry the doll around until it fell apart.

I would venture to say that Twyla would call this my “creative hard-wiring or personality.” For me it is all in the details, the look, the touch, the color, the mood, the gesture. It simply has to fit some preconceived notion. Period. I am drawn to details, quiet, solitude, controlled stimulation, and lots of color.

I bought this teacup a number of years ago at an antique show. It was a bargain because of its slight crack and no saucer to set it in. It was love at first sight. I stare at it often. It gives me joy and inspiration. It is like the doll’s face. I never tire of reaching out for it and filling me up with good things, things I care about and love.

All of this really boils down to some thoughts I would like to share here about why I sometimes am a reluctant blogger. I like the medium but sometimes I find it a little overwhelming and challenging. I don’t like being pinned down sometimes either. I started blogging originally to share creative ideas and find others that I could connect with in this domain. After nearly three years (I had one year with another account), I discovered it had slowly become a very personal journal. Did I want this?

Did I really want to look inside myself and share all the details that I discovered there, good and bad. I don’t think so, not really, but how was I to be authentic without being raw and completely open for all the world to see? Sometimes I would awaken in the night and be aghast at something I had written or expressed. In the morning, it would not seem all that bad, but then I wondered how I could discern what was appropriate to disclose and what details of my life did I really want to share?

Essentially, I am a very introspective and quiet and thoughtful person. I love my time alone. I treasure it. Growing up my mother always wanted me to be social and a joiner. I had to be in the choir, pageant, girl’s club, and church youth group and later other organizations she deemed important. It was not who I was. My creative DNA was in the details I found around me and the beauty of nature and the profound and rich love I found in pets. I was a solitary traveler. I could have been a park ranger if I had sewing projects to keep me going in the long stretches of quiet.

I love to focus on one thing and glean what I can from it. Distractions are my number one enemy. If I am hauled away, I have a hard time returning to the point where I was in the moment of that concentration. Twyla says the two detriments to creativity are distractions and fears. Absolutely. So back to blogging….I fear exposure and the time I spend in this space is often my distraction. I found I was spending two and a half hours some mornings visiting other blogs and commenting or responding to comments on my blog. Suddenly my time was less for creative hours spent in solitude and more about keeping up with a social network. What was I to do?

I think since I am so drawn to detail that it is hard for me to sit down and respond sometimes to others on a regular basis because it takes an overwhelming amount of energy. I think this is also why I cannot enter a room full of people and not feel anxiety. I am hard-wired for one-on-one relationships and spaces between my effort to connect. I have to honor this. I simply have to finally recognize that I am not the typical blogger or emailer or internet person. I need lots and lots of time to restore my energy in order to reconnect and be social again. The world is too fast, too full of stimulation and energy. I need to rest in the quiet details and find solace and peace and restorative balm before I can be in the crowd again or the blogging world.

I can stay here at mendofleur if I am honest with myself, that sometimes I may respond to comments when I have the stamina for it. I will often visit other blogs and not leave comments, and I think that is alright too. Blogging etiquette requires rules for which I cannot always adhere. These are just some of my thoughts about my dilemma in this space. I long to have more hours in the day for actual creative work, and if I don’t get it, I feel depressed and frustrated. I want to live in the beauty of details and quiet moments every single day that I can manage. So I am going to try and be present in my own way at this medium. I am hoping it becomes more focused on my creative output versus my personal life. That is really my goal and wish. I simply do not want anyone to be hurt or offended if I sometimes seem absent. We are all hard-wired in our own and unique ways, and I am going to try and give myself the gift of creative time and solace in 2011.

Today I decided to leave all worries and concerns behind me and head to Elaine Falbo’s felting class. Elaine was the one who made my felted white bird ornament and she does amazing things, including some fairy furniture that I have.

For all that I learned in one session it was a bargain. And it was such fun to leave the house and hang out with a bunch of enthusiastic and creative women.

Elaine provided all the wool as well as the felting block and the needles.

For inspiration, one of the women brought in a mouse in a shoe, something she had purchased awhile back from Elaine.

Her studio/shop has a certain magic to it. I have a hard time concentrating when I go in there because there is so much to see in all the nooks and crannies.

This is Elaine gathering up some wool to divide and share. She is such a marvelous person, very caring and generous.

I love the creative energy that is conveyed in this photo. It was so much fun being in a room with bundles of new ideas and everyone talking and laughing and eating chocolate mini-heart mints. Heaven.

Two of the women let me photograph their birds. They look like they are two buddies off to some rock concert. All the birds had such unique characteristics and personalities, reflected, of course, by all the individual women in the class.

This is my little bird, off in flight.

I think he is not very old even though he looks fully developed.

He is still finding his wings.

The gift arrived this afternoon from Jude. What a thrill to actually see and touch her creation. There is so much of her magical, generous, intelligent, and loving spirit in this piece. I have watched Jude for a long time create these pieces, but to actually be able to hold and see her work, firsthand, is simply amazing and inspiring at the same time. This piece will be cherished, not just at Christmas, but all through the year. Thank you Jude!

“When my hands were little, and my mother was teaching me to sew, she placed her hands over mine. She put her middle finger, encased in a pitted silver thimble, at the end of the needle and pushed for me. This finger, with the thimble, is a little engine, she said. It makes the needle go.”

Ahab’s Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund, Page 70

“I thought of the miles and miles of thread that her thimble had pulled through the cloth. What song had the needle sung to the fibers of the fabric? When she quilted, the needle passed through three layers: the pieced top, the inner batting, and the sturdy muslin underlayer. If all the thread from all her quilts were measured, would it stretch a thousand miles? Had her needle trudged, as a man’s foot might trudge, over a journey of a thousand miles?”

Ahab’s Wife

“She sat still, I thought, and yet she traveled. And when one stitches, the mind travels, not the way men do, with ax and oxen through the wilderness, but surely our traveling counted too, as motion. And I thought of the patience of the stitches. Writing a book, I thought, which men often do, but women only rarely, has the posture of sewing. One hand leads, and the other hand helps. And books, like quilts, are made one word at a time, one stitch at a time.”

Ahab’s Wife

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