I was trying to tell my doctor how my depression has changed in the last few months and likened my moments of happiness to a tiny fire, built using just sticks and friction, and a lot of hard work. From time to time I see a little orange glow, but[Read more]

For some reason, I can’t bring myself to put my fabric hexies back in their box where they might be forgotten again. So, they remain scattered on my work table, tiny sources of inspiration, whispering “put me in, coach!” I have to admit, keeping them in front of me, ready[Read more]

Every weekend since the first of this year I’ve spent time sorting the contents of my attic. Broken lamps, old clothes saved for possible costumes, worn out pillows whose stuffing might come in handy one day . . . my ex-husband kept it all. And since the attic was accessible[Read more]

I’ve been more blue than usual lately, so I’ve been extra intentional about being creative. Even if it’s just prepping for a project or organizing supplies, my hands have been busy all week. I can’t say that tactic changes how I feel, but it distracts me and makes the time[Read more]

I treated myself to a walk through Peddler’s Mall today. I said I was going to look for cloth napkins (our stash at home is running low – my napkins are like socks that disappear from the drier!), but I really just wanted the trip down memory lane. Secondhand and[Read more]

Amid the abundance of potential craft projects I have at my fingertips lives a box of fabric hexagons. These vintage hexies were lovingly cut by my great aunt Alice (I like to imagine she did this while watching her stories, enjoying an early afternoon cocktail), meant to be pieced together[Read more]