I am writing. This is me writing. Writing about writing, yes, but writing nonetheless.
I am a Maker. Making things feels right. Making things that are useful is better. Simple, elegant, sophisticated objects are best. Cute is acceptable, as long as there is a level of elevation. There should be a purpose intended for each made item, even if that purpose is just to be felt, looked at, enjoyed.
The ways I create and the things I create are disparate, but I expect common themes to emerge as I write about them. Right now, knitting, cooking, and parenting (aka Making Stuff with Kids, or Making Makers) take my free time. {I'll have to think on the definition of free time. There might be some wiggle room there.} I'd like to add or reintroduce sewing, printmaking, gardening, guitar and ukulele, singing, dancing, writing, and creating warm, comforting, energizing spaces in my home.
That is a long list. At the suggestion of a trusted adviser, I'm not going to panic at the long list of passions when I consider making time for them in a life full of a day job, chores, and family upkeep. Somewhere in there I need to get to the gym, too. Instead of mastering one craft, I'm going to attempt to become a Master Dabbler. And to come up with a better title. Instead of feeling inconstant or unfocused, I will focus on making. Here, the media is unimportant, the making is the message.
