But the truth of the matter is, there are more maps in the world than anyone can count. Every person draws a map that shows themselves at the center.
— By Catherynne M. Valente, The Boy Who Lost Fairyland
I have lots and lots of maps in my head. Maps with shortcuts and scenic routes, in various parts of different countries… Secret beaches with abandoned chapels in the dunes or secret spots where you can park for free in many towns and cities, hidden speed cameras or stunning view points. I have maps for good dog walks, organic shops hidden in the Ashdown Forest or tucked away in obscure parts of London. Maps to get to remote sea side villages in Spain or in India or how to get to the run way of Gatwick airport. Abandoned derelict factories, secret surf spots, ghost towns and disused old skate parks from the 70’s, the best basque cakes in the entire galaxy… It’s all mapped somewhere in my head!
I have been knitting a lot of socks lately. Really? I hear you say, we had not noticed…
I’m usually a one-project-at-a-time kind of knitter, and I always make a point of finishing something before starting something new. Not anymore. I have been happily
suffering from experiencing some sort of compulsive creativity disorder for quite a while now. The realisation that I could turn absolutely everything around me into knitting fully set into me. And I have found myself experiencing with this idea a lot last week:
The one above is the first draft, in my attempt to create bird-inspired socks and mittens…
Then I tried to simplify the bird, in order to translate it into a pattern chart. I’m not there yet. I’m still learning to draw in squares. Everything I draw in charts looks like a character out of an old packman video game!
“Acknowledge where you are at that moment in time, and how it can change…”
On Sunday the 21st of June, I was joining other yogis in a tranquil garden to do 35 sets of sun salutations at 5am to celebrate the summer solstice. A tawny owl was hooting from a tree near us. I clearly remember the quality of every sound and how everything felt so vivid. Three hours in the zone where the notions of time and space don’t exist.
Just the rising sun, my friend the owl and me.
Today, exactly three months later, I can’t do any sun salutations at all.
“I love to paint and draw, but as soon as you frame a piece of paper and stick it on the wall it loses some of its connections to the mundane and to the everyday. But if it becomes socks or mittens, it continues to circulate there! The inspiration starts sneaking into your laundry basket, onto your radiator, into your sock drawer, and it’s right there on your hands or your feet when you look down. I love that. For me, wanting to keep that rich cycle going of inspiration, daily life, inspiration, daily life, is at the very heart of my urge to MAKE THINGS.”
Felicity Ford, excerpt from an excellent conversation in between her and SpillyJane.
My son has been passionate with lego for a few years now. When I say passionate, I really mean obsessed. Lego has become his main medium to express himself. He gets inspired by the world around him a lot. He makes lego models of everything that he finds interesting, scary or gets his attention.
I know, artists do that. They often paint their surroundings and what (or where) inspires them.
What about knitting? In the same interview, Felix Ford describes how she knits about all the little things she loves in her everyday life, may they be digital recorders, plants, a church, a road, an old deco building about to be demolished in Reading…
She is doing in knitting what my son does with Lego: Exploring her environment and her feelings towards it through making something inspired by it…
As I ponder on the meaning of Home
I notice the universal sound, Om.
Om, Sweet Om – When do we get to go home?
Is Om, the sound of our universe, Home?
However hard we try, some places will never feel like home.
And sometimes we stumble upon a place and our heart sings: OM!!!!!!
I guess a place feels like home when we feel at peace with ourselves and the world by just… being there.
Could it be that once we are at peace with ourselves and the world around us, then we will feel at home everywhere we go? This fuzzy, homely feeling will be with us, for good?
I do think so.
She was waiting for her next patient to settle. While she was reading across her notes, the woman was lying prone on the table, with blocks supporting her hips. She could see that her legs weren’t quite straight as she noticed that her feet were not quite next to each other.
She started to apply pressure on the lower back of the patient. The woman’s body tensed up instantly and she let out a noise.
These last few years, I’ve learned to :
- Enjoy smaller, slower things and to take my time
- Sometimes, even though I know what is in someone’s best interest, it’s best to keep it to myself and let them make their own mistakes and learn from experience
- Respect the relationship people have with animals, nature and spirituality
- Sometimes what seems to be the most ethical or healthy option is not necessarily what’s best for everyone
- Not to be too harsh with myself
- Actually I don’t know anything
To me writing is like Nature Study.
As a water sign, I get to watch sharks,
Hammerhead sharks, circling inside my head.