A Wise Maker Said (Last Weekend On the Radio)

Last weekend I turned on the radio just in time to hear a snippet of a program to which I rarely listen, but my interest was piqued by the discussion.  The guest was an artist whose name is Ann Hamilton.  Someone asked her how being a maker (the title she prefers over artist) and a teacher and a parent inform each other, and also how she keeps the maker "alive with enough nourishment, how to not claw at the small amount of time/space in [her] head?"  And this question resonated with me, as I'm sure it does with many people who feel that they fight for bits of time in order to bring their ideas to life.

I don't know anything about this artist, so I have no idea what her work or her teaching are like, but her voice was calm and her response was soothing.  Just listening to her response made me feel instantly more relaxed about what I might be able to do in the coming days, weeks, years. I could feel my brow loosening and my shoulders unfolding as she responded to the question.

I Want the Village

We were never supposed to move to Houston.  My husband and I agreed when we got married that we would never move to Houston; we were united in our sense that it was the wrong place to build our lives, in spite of his professional opportunities there.  Geography has been a tricky puzzle for us from day one, but we believed we would eventually find a way around it.

That was seven-ish years ago.  The surprise we have felt at not hating life in Houston, and even rather enjoying it, has been noted on many occasions in this blog; and has been accompanied by multiple other surprises since moving here.

Finally

It’s been busy.  

My husband and I just returned from taking our baby on a trip to Missouri to see family. We spent four days in a house with six other people, bringing the household total to nine people, ranging in age from six months to forty-six years. We arrived in time for an ice storm and were essentially snowed in until our departure.  It was our first trip with the baby, and while it went well, it was intense.  I still can't believe that I was one of those people at the airport that I always pitied in the past (a person with a baby and a stroller and car seat and unbelievable amounts of shit in my luggage and carry-ons).

In spite of snow days and trips, I finally made something practical for the baby, with extra bits I already had, instead of buying new stuff:

I borrowed the pattern from some other bibs given to us as gifts, and used my serger to keep it fast and simple.  The material came from a hand-me-down baby blanket that we did not need.  They are not beautiful, but they are something that I made with resources I already had, which felt good.  As the baby starts to eat real food, I am coming to realize that I will need many, many, many bibs.  And a sense of humor.

Also, we’re moving.  Stay tuned.