Creating something is an act of love, as is sticking with a project through to its completion. Sometimes it means revising a story ten times. Sometimes it means ripping out fifty rows of an intricate shawl. Sometimes it’s exhilarating. Sometimes it’s mind numbing. Always it’s replenishment for the soul.
I’ve been making art for as long as I can remember, whether weaving words into story or turning a single strand of yarn into a finished object.
I wrote a play in elementary school with my Girl Scout Troop. I created a poetry book in eighth grade. I wrote my first novel in college. In 2018, I finally published my first short story in an anthology, and I’ve been publishing stories ever since, chasing the goal of getting my work out into the world. You can find all the places my stories currently live under the STORIES tab.
When I was 10 years old, my grandma first taught me how to crochet. I still have that first blanket floating around my house somewhere. I eventually graduated to hats and scarves. I learned how to knit in college. I’ve made sweaters and winter sets and baby blankets and diaper covers. In the past few years, I’ve been experimenting and eventually writing out patterns for my own use, but perhaps it’s time to start sharing those, too. So you’ll find an ever-increasing pattern library under the FIBER tab.
When I was 10 years old, my grandma first taught me how to crochet. I still have that first blanket floating around my house somewhere. I eventually graduated to hats and scarves. I learned how to knit in college. I’ve made sweaters and winter sets and baby blankets and diaper covers. In the past few years, I’ve been experimenting and eventually writing out patterns for my own use, but perhaps it’s time to start sharing those, too. So you’ll find an ever-increasing pattern library under the FIBER tab.
This is what happens when hobbies get too serious. I’ve always been a hobby person, running and writing and yarning and reading. The significance of those hobbies changed when I became a mom. I knew that it was all to easy to lose oneself into parenthood and emerge a stranger 25 years later, once all the kids had grown and gone.
I never wanted to be a stranger to myself. I began to write in earnest. I found places online to increase my knowledge. I joined groups. I wrote. People critiqued, then I wrote some more. I grew. I changed. And eventually, I wrote well enough to share with the world. I have number of novels in various stages of completion (and some which will NEVER see the light of day because, well, they’re just THAT bad), but I started my publishing journey with short stories and moved onto longer forms from there. I’ve invested a great deal of time and money into being the best writer I can be, and I have a few stories to show for it. |
When I wasn’t writing or tending kids, I’d run. And when I wasn’t doing those things, often in the evening to relax, I’d pick up my knitting needles or a crochet hook and start making things. At first, they were simple things, blankets for the kids and for the children of my friends, and over time, I’ve evolved from mostly following someone else’s patterns to creating my own patterns and designs.
This process of creation, whether with words or with yarn, share a similar path. They both require patience, dedication, perseverance, a willingness to be wrong and correct mistakes, attention to detail, and a profound understanding and acceptance of self. They are ways to interact with the world, to show love and care, and to bring joy or contemplation.
So, it’s at this intersection of differing modes of creation that I now rest, neither spending all my time in the pursuit of writing or of creating with yarn, but of blending the best of both of these worlds to improve in both. I can think about my story as I knit round after a round of an easy pattern or unplug completely. I can travel to worlds never before thought of or explored while neck deep in a manuscript.
And at the end, there is always something gratifying to show for it. So here, this is what I do. I write. I create. I use my mind and my hands and something beautiful always comes out on the other side.
This process of creation, whether with words or with yarn, share a similar path. They both require patience, dedication, perseverance, a willingness to be wrong and correct mistakes, attention to detail, and a profound understanding and acceptance of self. They are ways to interact with the world, to show love and care, and to bring joy or contemplation.
So, it’s at this intersection of differing modes of creation that I now rest, neither spending all my time in the pursuit of writing or of creating with yarn, but of blending the best of both of these worlds to improve in both. I can think about my story as I knit round after a round of an easy pattern or unplug completely. I can travel to worlds never before thought of or explored while neck deep in a manuscript.
And at the end, there is always something gratifying to show for it. So here, this is what I do. I write. I create. I use my mind and my hands and something beautiful always comes out on the other side.