Recently, I stumbled upon the concept of Mindful Knitting, which, despite my non-knitting ways, gave me pause for thought. The specific article was on cultivating your inner Yarn Whisperer (like a Horse Whisperer only different) and it encouraged letting go of your own expectations about a project and instead quietly opening your mind to the texture, colour, smell, weight and general vibe (okay I made that one up) of the yarn to free more creative ideas about what that yarn might be used for. I liked this approach and it immediately made me rethink my entire stash and what it's True Purpose might be. (Can you believe I've just written "mindful knitting", "yarn whisperer" and "true purpose" all in the one paragraph. This could be serious.)
However, it has triggered a whole series of thoughts about the role of Trust in my creative life. I have recently had a little comments/email exchange about crafts that you burn out on and can never seem to find the joy in again. For both of us, it was counted cross stitch and for largely the same reason - not enough scope to create independently of the pattern.
Here is example A.
She is actually quite lovely, frivolous and is titled Cloud Watcher by a New Zealand designer whose name escapes me just now. However, the expanse of green grass is endless and the counting so tedious that the end result just seems to far away. I will persevere (she is one of the privileged few, packable projects that came with me to Canada after all) and maybe one day I'll have this little quirky piece finished and her unfinished eyes will no longer watch me as I work. Spooky.
Moving right along, then.
Despite the fact that I find some handwork less stimulating than others, when left to create freely myself, with techniques that provide more scope for individuality, I can often freeze in my little artistic tracks. Here is where the trust comes in, I think - the trust of your own artistic and creative sensibilities. I struggle with this but have committed myself to spend as much of this year as I can slowly teaching myself to trust my artistic and creative instincts. Indeed, I think I want to become a Textiles Whisperer. That conjures up a delicious image of a New Improved Me in my workspace allowing myself to imagine and realise those imaginings free from the (sometimes deafening) messages and fears that play daily in my head.
This article was a timely reminder that quietening my mind and creating a safe space for my little creative muse to come out and splash around a bit, is a good few baby steps in the right direction. I might just go and close my eyes and hold my embroidery thread now and see if she'll come out and have a splash around. The water's warm, oh Muse of Mine.