Today it is two months (even though it feels longer) since we had our furniture moved from the condo. David finished putting up the wallhangings today. He is almost done organizing his shop and putting up shelves. He’s done a lot of gardening, which is something he loves to do. He’s also been applying for jobs. This week he had a job interview, followed closely by an offer. So he is being quite productive.
I thought it wouldn’t take me long to start writing once we get settled in our new home. But for some odd reason, I got into crocheting rugs instead. I’ve been visiting thrift shops to buy materials and sheets for this hobby. I started with the three rugs for our bathrooms, and then I kept going to make six more. I’ve also crocheted several trivets. I have two of the new rugs in our hallway.
The other four rugs I’ve crocheted don’t yet have a home. I would sell them to support my hobby, but I’ve not figured out how I’ll do that. Selling them via the internet is not that practical because they’re bulky and would cost a lot to ship. So I may do some craft shows.
That my creativity took a sharp turn like that is disconcerting because I’d rather channel it into writing. Yet I tell myself that there must be a reason why I’m drawn to practicing one of the homespun arts I learned from Mem. Perhaps I know unconsciously why this is. I hope it will eventually become conscious.
Today I finished up a rug, crocheted a trivet, organized my materials, and then cleaned up the house. It is amazing how much lint and dust had collected in the living room area. I moved furniture to vacuum, cleaned the upholstery, and dusted the furniture. It occurred to me halfway through the process that I might be purging to create a mental space to write.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my late friend, Marie Houle. July 13th was the first anniversary of her death. I have so many reminders of her in my home, and I feel her presence so often. We’ve had some beautiful sunsets, cloud shows, and moon risings. I don’t know if I’m alone on this, but whenever I see such Beauty in the skies, it reminds me of loved ones who have left this earth. It feels as if the veil between their world and mine is thin in those moments and I get a glimpse of heaven.
Just weeks before Marie died last year, I had made a trip to this part of Virginia. Upon my return to Massachusetts, Marie pronounced, “When I heard that you were in Virginia, I said that David and Saloma will find their next home there.” I was floored because David and I didn’t have any such intentions. We were planning to move to Ohio at the time. The saying goes, “We make plans, and God laughs.” I suppose that is true of our intentions to move to Ohio and the idea that I’d write as soon as we’re settled in.
I don’t know what God has in store for me, but I am willing to find out. I will accept creativity in whatever form it comes and be grateful for it, just as I am for the other blessings in my life.
I’m eager to read the book you were planning to write about your mom. What do the Amish call grandmother? Oma?
Hi Melody. The Amish normally call their grandmothers “Momme.” It’s got a little different pronunciation from Mommy, with a short ‘e’ sound at the end.
Thank you for your comments.
Your crocheted rugs brought back a lot of good memories for me. My grandmother taught me to crochet the summer I was going into 7th grade. I got somewhat frustrated as she made me do a lot of ripping out. I didn’t quite get the idea of adding extra stitches so the rug would lay flat. Needless to say I kept making “bowls” and “cups”! But by the end of summer, my one and only rug got done!
Oh, Kris, I remember learning that one has to add extra stitches to make the rug flat instead of cupped. Mem made me do it over many times.
Interesting how these memories stay with you, isn’t it? Glad the rugs reminded you…
I love your homespun rugs. They speak of bygone days and times, going back to my grandmothers’ times.
Katie, thank you. That is what I like about the homespun arts… they remind us of bygone times.
Hi Saloma. I don’t know if you remember me, I wrote you sometime back sharing with you that we shared similar abusive childhoods. I was told long ago by a professional that people like us in adulthood will often try to recreate a childhood that we wanted but did not have. My adult environment is full of comfortable things such as rag rugs and decorations reflecting the past. Always clean orderly and peaceful. Curious to your thoughts on this. Despite the past we are healthy. God Bless.
Suzanne, I certainly do remember you. I’d never considered that before, but it certainly is true for me… I love an uncluttered, neat, and clean environment. It’s nice to think this is healthy.
Blessings to you too. I hope you are well and happy.
If writing is anything like the visual arts, it is simmering on your back burner while you crochet. Learn to trust that as part of the creative process. If fully engaged with one’s craft, even cleaning the oven or closet can help that next thought, word, color, etc., surface. Better to let the mystery evolve than force it. Best wishes.
Erma, it is wonderful to hear your perspective. This is what I’ve been trying to tell myself. I love this: “Better to let the mystery evolve than force it.” I agree. Creativity and force do not mix.
Would love to know how your art/life is going. Would love to get together sometime. We are not that far away from one another at this point.
Have a wonderful week.
The rugs are beautiful. I agree that this time is “for” something. Nesting, bringing the old parts of your life with you into the new home, new place. It will come in its own time.
Thank you, Lynn, for your kind words. I find it encouraging that I might be bringing old parts of my life into my new home and place.
Blessings on your week, and thank you for stopping by.
You crocheted rugs are very nice and these remind me my grandmas handmade rugs.
I loved the sunset pictures of your backyard. It’s so beautiful. I use to take nature pictures which is one of my hobbies and the most I love to take the serenity of sunset landscape. You home is a temple of peace with simplicity and endless thinking. God bless you and hope we will get more n more good reading stuffs from Saloma Furlong.
Sonia, thank you for your comments. I’m hoping to get back to book-writing soon, but as others here have reminded me, these things cannot be forced.
I like taking photos of nature as well. I love to be surrounded by it, too. It calms my soul.
Have a wonderful week!
I agree that creativity can’t be forced. You are such a natural writer and I love and feel each piece of your writing and the can visualize very easily which gives me immense piece of mind and teach me to stay grounded(in my way).
You have a great week too !
Your pictures are beautiful! Your rugs are beautiful, and there is a reason why you feel the need to make them. That, as well as the physical cleaning of your home, can be a way of releasing the stress of the move out/move in/new home/adjustments in order to clear the pathway for you to concentrate on your writing. That day will come, be patient, breathe, and the words will start flowing again.
Isnt it wonderful that you by making rugs, you create your new home? It gives a good feeling if you arrive home at what time of the day:home.
Nice that David is settling in too and enjoy working in and out.
Greetings from Alberta!!
Wilma
I wonder if the drive to create rugs has something to do with tying yourself to your new space. Kind of like walking barefoot in order to feel a real connection to the earth. But never mind me! I’m in a whimsical mood tonight.
As for your Aurora Borealis rug, you have a good eye; it is well named. Here in Alaska, the Lights are among my favorite things. Here is the chorus to a song I wrote a few years back:
“But at night he’ll watch the Northern Lights
Stream across the sky
Silver and gold in ripples and folds
Of a purple scarf flung high
Green canopy of the Northern Lights!
Gleaming stars hang nigh
All nourish his soul in the crystal cold
Alone in the Northern Lights
Alone in the Northern Lights….”
My experience as a writer aligns with Erma Martin Yost’s comments. Sometimes I’ve gotten frustrated. I had set aside time to write, yet I found myself doing mundane tasks instead (not that your rugs are mundane — they’re artistic creations in their own right!). Then, after a while, unexpectedly, words would spring fully formed into my consciousness, and I realized that my mind had been working subconsciously on my writing all along. I absolutely love Erma’s statement “Better to let the mystery evolve than force it.” Try to force the mystery and you will lose the magic. What seems to be an unproductive time may actually be a gestational period, and may prove to be a great blessing in the long run.