I think there’s a large amount of people who never know the goodness of a handmade card, a home-cooked meal, a self-knitted pair of socks, a quilt made by your own grandmother, a shirt you made from a pattern in a book, and all the art and life and creativity each one of those things inspires.
I’ve recently begun expanding my creative horizons, and I guess most of my inspiration comes from my seven-month-old daughter, Rosabelle. I’ve done painting and drawing and some experiments in the kitchen here and there, but there’s just something about the wonder in her eyes as she beholds every new thing that makes me want to keep making new things for her. New stuffed octopi out of socks, new blankets, new dresses, new ways to play, new things to eat ... I’ve begun sewing bags and purses, giving them as presents for now, and maybe some day starting my own business. I’ve been more creative in my workouts, my journaling time, because the wonder in Belle’s little almost-brown eyes echoes the kind I used to hold when I was very small. Maybe that’s why we create things to begin with ... to capture back some of that wonder, the mystery and vastness of the world.
She is the best homemade I could have ever made. She is a masterpiece. I am an artist just because I’m a mom, but being so inspires me to excel in every other art I can and have always wanted to. Being a mom had made me unafraid of what people will think if I do things a certain way, cut my hair a certain way, dress a certain way.
So I have found a niche in life. I am a creator, and my quiet times are spent dreaming up new things to sew and sewing, writing, and most likely drinking a cup of hot tea with honey. As Belle grows and matures, I can involve her in all of this, and she’ll be able to create her own pictures and clay sculptures and stories. It’s a never-ending cycle, making things by hand. I’m not going to be one of the ones that misses out.