Pushing Back ~ Victory Garden ~ March 2021

My first opportunity to  teach Textiles came with an office. I should rephrase this-- it came with a desk in a group office in what was essentially a hallway for students on their way to the design lab. In some ways, it was good.(Remember, I'm a 'half-full' person. ) Interaction with students was a bonus, you saw who was actually going to class, and you might just be lucky to overhear valuable chatter that might serve in connecting with these students. We were the 'Core' class teachers. Math, English, but I was a cross-over. I taught Textiles. Textiles is a 'Core' class for students studying Interior or Clothing Design. So a few years in,  I was migrated to an office where instructors from my field of study were collected. I knew I had arrived. But with that move came unbeknownst to me, the added joy of the sound of the 10:00 opening of Lord & Taylor Department store, and the escalator grinding directly over my head.  As glamorous as it was to be working in the 'lower floor,' aka-the basement- of Phipps Plaza in Atlanta, GA, there were trade offs. 

Embroidery Enthusiast ~Indian Rocks Beach, FL 1982 

Being able to focus in the midst of chaos has long been a skill of mine. And it's paying off in spades this year. My 'office,' once a front living room, is more like a hallway on the way to the kitchen, a pitstop to change the thermostat, and most commonly, a resting spot for Henry while he checks the recipe he's cooking up on his cellphone, with a spatula dripping in hand. But its mine. I have a space. I have shelves full of my books, drawers full of sewing supplies, and a furniture layout that only a creative could appreciate. I'll take it. 

Staying in the midst of life, while finding your 'niche' is important. Living 'in the world, yet not of it,' is critical. Engaging in discussion without accepting every idea has long been appreciated- So I am less morphed by every sway of the wind, and am now pushing back on the parameters of my tiny universe.

Burning off the leaves in our updated garden space. 2021

 'No man is an island,' said John Donne, and I fully agree.  Community is precious, yet our exposure to every conceivable notion is more like a fire hydrant sourced by the ocean, and our ability to drink deeply of a wholesome idea and develop that interest is swept away far to soon, before we are able to offer it opportunity to take root. We are often even ridiculed for going back to the 'old things,' when we don't embrace the 'new.' Nothing 'new' is ever found under the great orb, yet it seems to come at us faster these days, and with a renewed sharpness to shame, even cancel. So here's me, pushing back. Looking back into the hills, from whence cometh my strength. 'Let us not grow weary in well doing,' And all That. Timeless truths, shining onto the new and the old, lighting every path. Once again, finding a foothold in my little corner of the world.

My Nana's sewing box and 'all the things...'