of weaving my own path

Yesterday I finished a little weaving on a tiny loom that Sam made for some workshops I did last year. There were a few looms left over and I brought three inside with a basket of yarn for the kids and me to work on as we wanted. 

I started the weaving well, and contentedly. But then after a short while I started to feel like I didn't know what I was doing, or more to the point that I wasn't doing it right. I pushed the weaving aside to look at Instagram and see the other people on there who I follow who do quite stunning and amazing weaving artworks. I looked and looked and felt a whole lot inadequate. 

I haven't been taught how to weave, aside from as a child by my mother and at school. I haven't done any workshops or online tutorials. Or even looked at a how-to book on weaving. The weaving making that I do is fairly innate and self-taught. The memory of under-over-under-over. But the knowing of any other special stitches or how to make the exact right way of setting up or finishing or adding embellishments. All of that is unknown to me. Unknown except for what my brain tells me might be the right way. 

I sat with this feeling of not knowing, and being wrong for only a short amount of time. I pulled my weaving back in front of me. With my selection of colours and yarns I told myself that the very first humans to ever weave and make cloth or fibre of any sort didn't have a teacher except their mother or father, and didn't have a book or a fancy workshop. They had their materials and their human innate understanding of maybe how something could work. They didn't know if it would work or not, but they kept on trying until it did. And they kept on listening to their own thoughts and intelligence. 

The weaving I have made I am not sure if it would be classified as art or craft or design or simply over-under-over-under of yarn through yarn. But what I do know is that when I made it (and I make more, not just weaving but other makings) I felt good and like I was following - making - my own journey and not following someone else's journey or rules or pathway. And when I look at this weaving I see a piece that talked to the maker and the maker talked to it. A conversation and communication between hands, mind, soul and materials. 

This, I realised, is the best way for me to create. To make with my own inner guidance, to use my understanding of how things work and not have to follow. I don't have to lead either. I just have to happily meander along my own path. 

I have entitled this weaving 'she whispered in my ear'.

*this piece was written some many months ago, sitting in my drafts - for some reason never published. I like adding it to my story now - as since this piece I have found my own direction and non-path path for weaving. I have learnt new stitches, I have taught other people how to discover their own weaving styles. I have talked, conversed, listened to my materials and time and time again been delighted in the tales we tell each other, in the stories we create together..... the yarns we weave. 

The Red Thread- Space to Create

I first found out about Lisa's beautiful blog, design and making many years ago when her friend, Steph Bond, connected some dots between us, asked for some words and thoughts - which I was ever so pleased to be able to pass on. Since then, I've enjoyed visiting Lisa's blog, and being wowed by her skills in taking traditional crafts and reworking them into a modern interpretation. Her tutorials are amazing, with so much detail and thought and time gone into each one. Lisa's styling of her images, as well as the snippets of her home (that she shares with her daughter), are perfectly put together, in a simple and loved way. 

In the past six months I've been lucky to enjoy Lisa's instagram feed; which brings daily joy to many people through her love of bold clear colour and  sharing of skills. I'm so inspired by how Lisa works, and what she produces. 

So, it was completely amazing and humbling for me to receive an invitation from Lisa, a few weeks ago, to be part of her Space to Create blog posts. Where she shares an interview and images from creatives who inspire Lisa. Wow - to know that I inspire someone who inspires me. That's the wonderful circles I'm traveling at the moment!

Anyway, pop on over to Lisa's blog The Read Thread, to read my words on being a creative; a little snippet into our world and my life as a maker. While you're there, please be sure to check out Lisa's tutorials as well as the other Space to Create artists.

Thank you Lisa for your words. xx

brave or .....

Over the past few weeks/months whenever I've talked with someone about our new homeschooling adventures they have proclaimed me to be brave. "Wow, I could never do that. You're so brave", generally with real admiration in their tone. My response has generally been "yeah, or stupid". 

I was saving writing about our homeschooling journey on this blog, as I have thoughts/ideals that it's a crafting/making/creative/small business blog. But, I think I need to realise that it's a me blog. And right now the me who writes, owns and is this blog is all about homeschooling.*

Let me start off by saying that so far in this 6 weeks since we left school, and began homeschooling, it has not been an easy or smooth transition. Not that I thought it would, but I had hoped it would be easier than it has been. I think I guessed the kids would settle into their school routine and allow me to sit and be their book-work teacher for at least 3-4 hours a day. And I had crazily assumed that the daily work would just sort of write itself and evolve easily. I mean; my kids can read (one learning, one very proficient) and write, and are highly intelligent inquisitive children. I think I assumed we'd all skip along a path of self-learning and enjoying reading/writing/working every day. 

Ha! Let me say that louder HA!. (Therein lies the "stupid" part. The part that thought it would all happen on it's own! Ha. I hear all our teachers laughing hysterically at that one). 

Well, actually that has happened on many wonderful mornings; we've sat down with our books and a semi-planned idea of what we'd work on. And stayed at it contentedly for a good couple of hours. Beautiful. The kids learning and talking and remembering and being inspired and excited. But then the next day it didn't happen. And another day they wanted to play Barbies / Lego / building fairy houses / on the iPad for an extra few hours. Or the maths work was too hard. Or they didn't want to put in the effort of the English or the research for the project we'd talked about doing. And it's dwindled. Day by day has slipped into a semi-holiday. 

Of course, in our home even on holidays and weekends and Sunday mornings there is life learning happening. Reading and writing and story telling and making and planning and exploring and discovering and researching are always happening around here. We talk about things at breakfast, or recite our times tables in the car, or make up Haiku's when we see a beautiful cloud. Or a play evolves from a remembered snippet of a favourite story. And they curl into bed at night, and we read stories together - sometimes him reading, sometimes her, sometimes me.

And I think all this is good. It's schooling. I believe it would fall under what is generally termed natural learning or un-schooling. And I love that. It seems to fit within our life and days and the kids self-learning personalities.

Aside from my need to be totally dedicated and on top of recording and note taking to assure the board of studies that my kids are learning and doing work (and really - perhaps learning more, and more passionately, than many classroom children); I think it's all good. 

All good. On the schooling front. 

oh but. but but.... What I'm really rambling on about here is: Is it all good on the mama/teacher/carer/cleaner/hugger/bookreader/crafter front. What I'm wondering is. When do I get my break? That moment between teacher and mama.

I love my children. More than the moon and the trees and life. No denying that ever at all. But I'm wondering when I'll be brave enough give over wholly of myself, and be there with them endlessly. And stop wanting/expecting/demanding that time for myself. As I see it needs to be. I'm eager here if there's anyone with experience reading able to give some advice, or take my children for a day or so.... 

Will homecshooling give them everything. But take everything from me?

Wondering if I'm brave enough.

*though I am keen to hear from you, my dear readers, whose thoughts and visits I really really honestly value and respect and don't take for granted. I'm eager to hear if you'd like to read more of this style of style of blogging, or if you've come here to see pretty pictures of things I make? Please do do leave a comment and let me know. I love that blogs, this blog, can be a conversation between friends. 

{images from top: maricor/maricar; rummage, but found here; bottom 2 from my words Pinterest page.} If you'd like to see pretty pictures that I'm posting, head on over and follow me on Instagram. It seems a teeny too much stretch to get those images from my phone or camera onto the computer.