~ creative woman ~

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I have been feeling pretty darn un-creative lately.

Which has been met with 

"what are you talking about, of course you are creative!"

But that's not what I mean.

I haven't been nurturing that creative spirit inside,

have been selling myself way, way short.

So on Friday, during Creek Day with the Waldorf co-op,

I brought some embroidery hoops, floss, needles and an old bedsheet.  

Some of the less muddy kids did a little stitching, 

and I had fun helping them.

And after everyone had left, 

I sat in the parking lot while the kids played a little more

and did a little freehand stitching on a tiny hoop.

For me, the repetition is intoxicating,

like music for my fingers.

I don't have a clue how to embroider

beyond a backstitch, as you can so plainly see.

But I made a few bird tracks with some purple floss, 

and that felt good.

Then I wondered who had made those tracks.

And that wonder felt really, really good.

Liv wandered by and noticed the beginnings of a tiny bird.

"May this be mine, Momma?"

Of course, baby girl.

It's not the prettiest thing in the world.

But at the end of that day,

it felt like a masterpiece.  

I don't have to reclaim my creativity 

in broad, sweeping brush strokes,

or long piano solos,

or even hand-knit wool sweaters.

Just one stitch at a time,

up and down, up and down,

is good and worthy progress.

~carrie~

p.s. Thank you to my dear, dear friend Michael for inspiration,

and plain old "calling me out".