Love, creation, and the textures of life

Yesterday I went to an opening at my very favourite gallery, Swoon. It is a smallish gallery to look at, crowded into a house, spotted by its huge pink sign on Hammonds Plains Road. Without the sign, you'd drive on by, assuming the house was merely a home of someone with eclectic tastes in outdoor…

Hooking my way through the year…

I've recently started rug-hooking. It's the thing these days, post crewel embroidery... I sit in my living room, decorated by the crewel panels my mother did, copying her activity, only I pull little loops through the linen with a tiny hook instead of passing a needle through. It's part of my fibre education - sewing,…

The pettiness of the long-distance writer…

Oh, I'm so fed up. With myself, with my not-writing, with this foolishness that I assign myself only to fail. I find myself avoiding reading reviews of new books because the bitterness of "I shoulda been a " is so strong, though I know full well I don't have the stick-to-itiveness to finish my writing…

Starting anew

I'm working on a new project. Im making a hooked rug to act as a headboard for my bed. It's starting slowly, like many new projects - I've got the idea but it hasn't quite gelled completely, so, as with my writing projects, I'm procrastinating... I know what the problem is - I'm not sure…

Piecing together a creative life

I've always known that my life would be a tapestry, as Carole King sings. Once I thought I might like to be a doctor, but I knew that focused a life was not for me. I want diversity in my life, a muddle of alternate activities, a variety of sources of joy. For a while…