Craft a Day

That is what I am calling this week. This year is my 'crafty christmas', where I attempt to handmake as many of my Christmas gifts as I can. In order to this, I need to get in gear! I must make a craft each day to have everything done. No matter the fact that I am moving soon, I will just have to do a smaller craft. I do not want Dec 24 to show up and me having to stay up all night surrounded by fabric and glue and needles. And beer. That could get dangerous.

wish me luck.

(Props to Carrie for all the crafty ideas that she has given me. they are beautiful and amazing!).

ordinary things

So, I made my first Tote Bag! I love it. it was very fun.

that's all about that.

I am (along with many others) struggling with God's love. I just don't get it. Or I guess that I just want God to love me how I want to be loved. I don't want to be sanctified this way. Can't I pick my cross to bear? One that doesn't feel so heavy? I see all these wonderful people around me struggling to carry theirs and I just want to cry. Often I feel that I can't help them carry theirs because mine is weighing me down too much. I want to throw it aside and help people i love as they struggle under the weight of their burdens. It seems to me that THAT is what our time here is for...to help each other carry our crosses and encourage each other along the way.
I think I am looking for hope, and a reason for pain. Because it doesn't make sense to me. I can look back and see where pain has helped me, but...I don't know, can't God just do it? I realize that I sound like a petulant child, but I am tired of pretending like I always believe that pain is good. I am actually sick of it. I want a break. I want my friends to get a break. It is hard for me to enjoy beauty because I am scared of what is next. sigh. Maybe someday I will be able to trust God fully, but I don't see it happening anytime soon. And I certainly don't see me making it happen. He is going to have to show up and make it so. I am not capable.

Argh! It's so cute!!

Here is my first 'creature'. I really love little dolls like this, so I am trying to create some. I am getting all kind of Frankenstein on some felt! Anyway, this is my little bunny. she is imperfect and messy (like me), but I love her. Her name is Matilda. She is glad to meet you.

I am working on a robot protype. Stay tuned for more fun creatures!

You don't know where you are going until you know where you come from

This week has been really good to me. On Sunday night, I made a decision that was sort of big to me. It may not seem it to anyone else...but it is. I decided to go with my dream of making money from selling my screenprinted things (mainly T shirts, but I have big plans for other things). This was something I took up as a hobby a few months ago, and loved it. Even better, I am quite good at it. It is going to be hard, and I don't know what the hell I am doing, but that is not stopping me. ANYWAY...along the way, I also realized that perhaps I could sew some things too. You see where this is going...I opened my mind to creative possibilities and it was madness! I can make adorable stuffed creatures! Aprons! Bags! I felt so at peace and pleased. Somehow (probably Jesus) I started wondering about why I love this so much and why the idea of being 'crafty' makes me feel comfortable and peaceful.
It opened a window to my past. A connection to all of the women in my family. They are all crafters and creators. I recall summers spent making doll clothes and pillows at my Abuela's house. Painting little plastic boxes and Tote bags, embellishing pillows for my mothers bed. Doing this while my Abuelito did woodcrafts for us to paint. These are some of my fondest, safest memories of childhood. My maternal grandmother has always been crafty, but in a completely different way. She can pass any 'junk' pile on the street and see potential. So much so that she started her own flea market in New Orleans at age 70! and she is single! Even my parents were crafters. All of the curtains in our houses growing up were made from sheets, and I had a love affair with puff paints that is probably unrivaled. My father built the bookshelves that I use today.
Seeing this has cleared the way for me to see other connections. Such as my love for hospitality. Both of my parents grew up in houses with parties and family dinners. I remember watching my mother organizing elaboratly themed parties, and my father planning block parties (going so far as to get a permit to close down the streets for the kids). Other ways as well; my grandmother was very proper, and this is probably why I love using cloth napkins and won't use paper in my home (even just for a sandwich!).
It is really amazing what seeing all of this has done for me and my little soul. It has been redemptive at a time when I feel alone in my family. I feel less lonely, more connected. As though I know a little bit more of my story. I am so thankful that God opened my eyes to these things. The timing was perfect, I was feeling orphaned. Although that feeling remains, this softens that sting. I have never like traditions or history, but I think that was fear mixed with trepidation. I did not want to have anything in common with my parents. Now I am thanking God for these parts of me, and seeing the beauty in my family and in my messy life. I am hoping to take all of this and pass it along, more beautifully and tenderly. Make it my own, while keeping the heart of it.
When I sit down at my sewing maching, or take out another napkin, I can feel the women in my family cheering me on. I feel pride in continuing this tradition of making beauty from ordinary. It is peaceful and humbling. And indescribably redemptive.