i posted on instagram the other day that, while time is an arbitrary social construct, i do hope that 2022 is a year that brings me creative freedom. i can be sociological and meta and deep and also a slave to my humanity. lol.
i used to draw, and paint, and doodle. i can imaine these magnificent pieces of art in my mind. i haven't worked on the parts of my brain that allowed me to put them out physically in a long time, but I signed up for a Procreate course on a whim and I'm really excited about it.
I've spent the money, so I have to do it now, lol. I can't just do art because I want to, I have to force my brain into allowing it to be okay. I've paid for an art course so now I have to learn to do art again. And that's fine, because it's getting the ball rolling.
before Cake, I did magnificent nail art. I stopped doing my nails after I had her, because who has the time for nice nails with a baby, or a toddler, or all those dishes destroying my nails anyhow. But when the pandemic hit, I bought a bunch of nail stuff (on a whim, always an impulse buy) and I've been doing them more or less since. Now that I never leave the house and no one can see how nice they are anyways! I had joked, but more importantly than anyone else seeing my nails, I get to see my nails done every day. And it makes me feel good. It makes me feel a little more put together. It's a few hours out of a single day of my week, and the good feeling lasts all week, resurging again every time I admire my nails.
My therapist encouraged me to keep doing my nails, that if anything I needed to do this thing for myself once a week.
I apply his 70/30 rule here, too. He's right. The little bit of accomplishment I get from doing my nails can carry me onto the next day. Which allows me to accomplish one more task. That sense of accomplishment snowballs, if I'm lucky.
Not always, but it's really nice when it does.
I miss sewing. I miss the excitement I'd feel, the surge of pride when Gage would come home from work and I'd hold up a shirt, hot off my serger, that Cake had requested that morning and I whipped up that day, just because.
Where is that drive???
The majority of our family's clothing was handmade by me at one point. I loved it, the gasps of "you made that? how?" I loved the promotional work, the applying for jobs I wanted and getting them every time because I was an in-demand sewist in the indie community. I don't mean to sound gloaty, but ... I was, lol, I do nice photography, I can edit photos and really nail detail shots that fabric and pattern companies need and love. There's a huge amount of pride that comes with these memories. I was part of a community that celebrated my artwork.
I picked up cross-stitching after my Whipple Procedure; I wanted to sew so badly but sitting upright at my desk hurt, moving around to tape or cut patterns and fabric was next to impossible, so I needed a textile art I could do in-hand. Cross-stitching was the salve on my heart, I'd bring bags of thread and tapestry needles and hoops to the hospital and stab stab stab fabric, let my anger out and turn it into something frameable.
It fades, the interest. The last three-plus years have been hell. I can't work a normal job, which is fine, but internalized capitalism reminds me that that makes me useless. Worse than useless, this makes me a burden. I'm not contributing to society, I'm burdening it. The depressive fog--I've always had depression, since I was a teen, but it's so.... not worse. Different. it's different now, a deeper depression, twice my lifetime later, diagnosed with terminal illness, and now instead of wishing i could just die already it's fuck it fuck it all i don't want to die but I'm gonna. Damnit, teen Erin. You didn't know how this would turn on you.
So this year, I hope I can learn to work through this. This guilt that binds me into inactivity. I don't need to feel guilty about enjoying whatever time I have. Everyone's time is limited, no one gets out alive. It just happens that the majority of people aren't dealing with their mortality on such a daily basis. I really hope that everyone can spend more time doing what they love; I hope this serves as a reminder that you are worth more than your income, you are your own incredible human with your own valuable skills and interests. That they are valuable and interesting because they are part of you and you cherish them. I hope you nurture those parts of you that need nurturing. Hold me to nurturing mine?
i like stuff. shiny crow brain collects things.
If I'm going to collect things, I like to make sure they're good ones. And then I get really excited about my nice shinies and want everyone else to know about the nice shinies that are out there.
Small scale artists, highlighting BIPOC, LGBTQIA+ voices, indie and small businesses, and things that are just fun to me. I wanna share with you my favorite indie nail polish brands, where I keep buying handmade beanies, my new obsession with vinyl records. Basically, anything that isn't centric to the purpose of Little Torch Blog, but I wanna post about, lol.
I will include affiliate links where possible; these will only ever post things that I genuinely love. I'm not trying to be an influencer by any means, lol, but all income is good and helps support Little Torch Blog and my family as a whole. :) If you shop using my links, thank you so much.