Hooking Helps

Ok, it’s not what you think. It’s crochet. 

I started ‘hooking’ when my kids were in high school. Why? Any parent with kids understands the pattern: drop off and pick up. Doesn’t matter if it’s voice lessons, soccer practice, choir rehearsal, marching band practice or drama camp. I spent a lot of my time on the road but even more time in the parking lot or school hallways waiting. And waiting. And waiting. 

Don’t get me wrong, I was glad to do it. I’m happy my kids had a chance to do so many creative things that I never got to do. I loved that their talents were seen and shared. And even better, those talents have turned into real life work. But while they learned and practiced and rehearsed, I needed something to do, too. Something that was creative, fun and easy to take with me. 

Yarn to the rescue. 

So I taught myself to crochet. I liked that it was simple: a hook and some yarn. I liked that I could take it anywhere. I liked that it was fun and creative. While it takes some concentration, I found I could crochet and listen to choir or band practice all at the same time. And I got a scarf or hat out of it - bonus!

I’ve taken classes in many art media over my life: life drawing, watercolors, acrylics, oils, pastels and sculpture in clay and window screening. I’d failed at sewing. So I didn’t have high expectations for myself. It was something to do to pass the time. Or so I thought. But I actually got into a book on Freeform Crochet a decade or so ago. And I’ve had requests for my patterns. But I never took it seriously. 

Hooking my way to sanity. 

Now, I realize that my silly hobby that embarrassed my kids is an artform to many and I respect the artists who have made crochet their medium of choice. I respect and honor their creativity. I like to make up my own projects: hats, scarves, blankets, pillow covers. Lately, I’ve been making Christmas stockings for a local women and children’s center.

For me, especially these last few years, crochet is crucial to my well being. I’ve had many life changes to deal with that I can’t control: layoffs, retirement, illness and surgery. And now, add the terrible, awful, truly bad orange clown. 

I looked it up online and here’s what I found: “there are studies that prove that knitting and crochet can positively impact brain health by enhancing cognitive function, reducing stress and promoting a sense of accomplishment. The repetitive motions and focus can improve memory, attention and even potentially slow cognitive decline. And the mindful meditative state induced by these activities can help reduce stress and anxiety.”

So I have my therapy: just get some yarn and get hooking. You might want to try it. 

Hopeful Acts

Where is my America? After this week, I truly don’t know. I see the acts of the Senate and that man in the White House degrade our country, our protected lands, our rights, our hearts and our souls. They take millions of our tax dollars to play golf while refusing to use the funds we pay for our healthcare, education and welfare.

What’s worse is seeing the Medal of Honor given to a racist, hate-monger while the brave soldier coming home from Afghanistan gets only a hug from his wife and children. I’m angry the very obvious criminal acts by our elected leader are not only being ignored but encouraged.

I’m mad and determined to do what I can to make all of US better. Part of that, for me, means not giving in or giving up. 

Art is my best act. 

With everything that’s going on, it’s easy for me to get mired in the muck. My best way out is to throw a little dirt or clay. Believe me, wedging clay can be a real good way to get out my anger. 

Slicing into a fresh, new block of clay is always wonderful. But slapping it down, picking it up and slapping it down again and again and again is well, wonderful therapy. Rolling it out, slapping it down again and taking the rolling pin to it is soul clearing. The best part is knowing that in the end a new piece will emerge. 

My lily vases make wonderful vessels for flowers of all kinds. A beautiful sculpture to sit on a shelf or table at anytime. But the thing I love most is how they stand tall, beautiful and strong in full bloom all year round. No matter what happens around them. 

Love acts. 

Inside my bowls, words emerge. Believe, last year’s word of the year, became a big part of my bowls. Love followed close behind. I was a little worried about using red and blue on white right now. But this piece is for a friend of many years to brighten up her newly remodeled kitchen. 

This year’s word act is making its way into my work, of course. But finding a way for it to fit well into other words is proving tricky. Why? Because something as simple as Love and Act can easily get simplified and twisted. I don’t want to be seen as promoting perversion or assault.  I want Love and Act to be seen as the blessed form of communication that it truly is. 

What are Love Acts? Kindness. Listening. Accepting. Helping. Being there. Being aware. Being a place of safety for every one and every being on this planet. 

This is how I cope using my clay to send out messages of hope and encouraging acts of love. 

Slow Down You Move Too Fast.

A few weeks ago, I saw a video of Steven Colbert and Paul Simon playing the "59th Street Bridge Song" on the Steven Colbert Show. Paul Simon commented that he hated this song, now, he felt it was just too naive. I see his point and even though we've all heard it millions of times, it remains a tune with a true message.  

You got to make the morning last. 

In this world full of fast food, cars, Internet lifestyles, slowing down seems like a dream of a by gone time. But does it have to be? Is it wrong to take time to sit and sip your coffee? Enjoy your breakfast? Savor the light shining through the window?

I'll confess, I've had to slow down in the past month due to a leg injury. I'll admit I'm not the best patient in the world, because patience is not something I have for myself. And because of that lack of patience, I've taken an injury that could have been mended in 2 weeks and increased it to over 4 weeks. All because I wanted to move too fast. 

Hello lamppost, what cha knowing? I've come to watch your flowers growing. 

Walking through my neighborhood park has always been a big part of my life. Whether I was jogging after my kids on their bikes, power walking my dog or now, pushing my granddaughter in the playground swing, I've made that 2 mile circuit almost everyday of the year, rain, snow or shine.

Now, step by very slow step, I can make it there again.  I can't make it all the way around the lake, yet, but I can go through the woods, down the sidewalks, over one bridge and half way up the hill home. Sometimes I hate how slow I have to go, but slowing down has made me see more of the life around me. 

Yes, like the flowers growing. This year, with all the rain we've had here, there are more flowers out and blooming. The peonies, rhododendrons, and Rose of Sharon's are bursting out all over. There's this tree with white bell-like flowers that smells like jasmine. And a plant with a star-shaped purple flower I just love. I have no idea what they are and I've never noticed them before, either. 

Usually, the park overflows with goslings. But this year, due to overzealous park people who robbed the eggs from the goose nests, there were no goslings and even the geese left the park. But this week, a few brave geese were back with a few new goslings. 

Looking for fun and feelin' groovy.

Yes, this lyric is past its prime. No one says, 'groovy' anymore than 'totally'. But the idea of looking for fun and feeling good is still important, maybe even more important now.  With our ever increasing need for speed comes overload. And a question: what are we running toward?  Do we really want our days, nights, weekends and years to go faster? Do we really want our lives to go quicker?

I don't. And although I look forward to getting my strength and stamina in my leg, back, I want to remember that moving too fast isn't a good life goal. I'd rather be looking for fun. 

Life, I love you. 

How about you?