This weekend was the 40th Annual Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival. It was, of course, amazing. And of course, I bought THINGS and saw PEOPLE… and we petted 3740173408174 sheep. We didn’t get much of a chance to take pics of the vendors, stuff for sale – I always feel weird about doing that without getting permission, and it was soooo crowded that it would be difficult – so you’ll have to settle for pics of sheep. One…
I’m a little late with this post – I usually shoot for Sundays – but this one was worth the wait, y’all. I promise. This week has been filled with more gardening, getting sick and finding out that I probably was glutened by my MULCH [seriously, wtf], recovering, trying to catch up on lost work by dyeing fiber for a custom order for Kate from Gourmet Stash like a wild woman – her first run of Dyer Mashup punis which…
Bear with me… this might be long and rambling. Things that are amazing: I belong to a worldwide community of people who are inspired and consumed and creating – with and by a rather obscure pastime that many would consider quaint or outdated. The fiber arts community is my joy, my inspiration, my never-ending challenge and cheerleader and the place I always wanted to be. Things like THIS happen in this community. The *this* in question is a…
The week after a big show is usually one of recovery. It’s not that doing a show is hard – on the contrary, even when the show has a big setup, the exhilaration of meeting people and talking about what I love always makes it SO easy and fun. It’s after, once the excitement has worn off, and you realize you’ve given everything you brought with you to the room… that’s when it hits you that you’ll be needing a…
This week was nuttin’ special – dyeing fiber, spinning yarn, shipping out packages, talking to customers, dancing around to 80s New Wave on the weekend… Situation Normal. 😀 . . . . Some random things: I am born and bred Baltimore. We sometimes jokingly call ourselves Baltimorons, but will probably punch anyone not from Bawlmer who uses the phrase. Baltimore, as you might have gathered if you follow my blog but are not from here, is a weird and goofy…
I’m going to get non-fibery serious for a moment here. Vulnerability, pretty much by definition, is a scary place. It means you’re open to getting hurt, to letting people see the parts of you that your instincts tell you to protect and hide. Those instincts tell you to put on the happy face, tell no one about your losses and fears and screwups and hurts, lest you get even more damaged. It’s a smart move as far as protecting oneself…
