I’ve been writing this blog for awhile now, in the midst of month three, and there are parts of it I’m really loving. I adore having a project list, something to strive for, sharing the results with you, I feel so productive and productive makes me happy. However, I was telling my husband that as happy as that aspect makes me, one aspect makes me sad, it doesn’t feel REAL, anyone could be writing this blog, what about it is ME? He replied with two factual statements, 1. I need this blog, and 2. He doesn’t have any good advice for me.
So I thought, pondered, I knit the surprise Men’s Scarf that is on my needles (and is taking what feels like foreevvvvverrr) and I thought. Why did I want to start this blog?
I like Workbasket magazine. I like crafts. I know tons of crafts. I need something productive to feel good and be happy. All those are great, and for some people that may be enough. Other wise words from the husband, not everything has to have deeper meaning, not everything has to be REAL. But here’s the thing, I LOVE real. You can enter my house, sit on my couch, cry, scream, and discuss life at it’s best or worst, and I will love you, listen, hug you if needed, and never judge or tell a soul. But don’t stand next to me and chat about the weather or your kids report card, or your new car. I don’t care. Be real with me. Be deep. Be you. Be all of you. And that is the part I struggle with on this blog, being truly real with you.
Which, how do I bring that to this blog? How do I get honest and be real, how I do add what only I can add to this blog? How do I link that to crafts, and these crafts specifically?
And I realized why I really wanted to do this blog. I realized why I knew deep down I loved this magazine all these years. I wanted to do this because I measure life in crafts. I think crafts are the world. I adore knowing that my Aunt taught me to knit, and my other Aunt, God bless her, she tried SO hard to teach me to crochet, then my mom actually taught me to crochet. My Grandma spoiled me and my cousins (of which there are so so many) with handmade dolls, and I mean handmade, her sewing machine died an undetermined amount of decades ago. I love a handmade Christmas ornament, and the memories that go with it. I love knowing that over 60 years ago someone sat down with the same exact issue I’m working with now, and some thread and a hook and made the exact same flowers I am crocheting now.Someone else remembers having those flowers on a side table, or a dining room table, or maybe on a guest room dresser. Someone in this world probably remembers sitting at someone elses’ feet while they made those flowers. Someone may have gotten them as a wedding present, or a graduation present, or learned to crochet to make them.
I truly believe in crafts. I measure my life in crafts. The year I learned to knit, the year I learned to crochet, the years I did rubber stamps or mixed media art, the year I worked in an art glass studio, the years my Grandma’s house had clay animals in the window and a daisy patterned afghan on the couch.
So I hope to find ways to work a bit more of that into this blog. I’m not sure entirely how I will do that, but one thing I’d like to add is craft memories. I’d love if any my readers (thank goodness there are a few of you! I love that!) could write me with memories related to crafts, anything at all, and I’d like to publish them here. I’ll gladly give as much or as little info about you as you’d like. It can be a whole story, or a sentence or two. I’m inserting a contact form below that will hopefully work like I plan and make it easy for you to do this. I can’t wait to hear from you! In future posts there will probably be a lot more personal memories as well. Hopefully my current readers, and any future readers, will enjoy that.
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