Lest you think I’m all moody metaphors and no creativity this summer, I shall share pics of what’s kept my hands occupied of late.

I’ve been playing with air dry clay – some evenings just manipulating it for the pure tactile joy it brings me, and the rest of the time I’m creating silver-dollar-sized gift tags for Christmas presents. I possess scads of twine and silver beads with which to embellish them and found that a thin-tipped Sharpie works perfectly for writing “to” and “from” on their backs.

I also pressed a few leaves in the clay, cut them out and then painted them. They’ll grace my coffee table or perhaps my desk at work this fall.

While working with my hands and listening to podcasts, I thought a lot about how touch and little gestures (like handmade tags) are my love languages. I’m lucky that my boys are generous with their hugs, which I ask for as often as they’ll allow, because I miss and need physical interaction. Kneading, softening, sculpting the clay gave me a similar feeling (albeit on a much smaller scale) and making things with other people in mind always brings me joy.

So that’s me right now, looking beyond my zinnias, but still looking deep inside, and planning for the seasons soon to follow.