Time Marches

 

We are now beyond the winter solstice (in the northern hemisphere) and already we see the return of the sun beginning.

Today we actually see the sun, finally achieving a clear blue sky - mostly.  We are also well into the throes of climate change where it is becoming more and more difficult to deny that the climate HAS shifted - and not in a good way.

BC, nominally on the 'wet' coast is also deeply into drought.  The 2023 wildfire season was made much worse because of the drought, with the forests tinder dry (literally) and every t-storm that rolled through lit up more fires until we were breaking records constantly with ever more fires.  Given that much of this part of the country is nearly vertical, trying to put the fires out became a game of whack-a-mole.  Truth to be told, I'm not sure all of the fires are actually out even now because there is barely any snow, anywhere.  (Just went looking and there are still wildfires burning.)

Even so, people are still denying that the climate has changed to the detriment of every living thing on this planet.  

But today we are on the cusp of a new calendar year.  Will things change?  Oh, indeed.  Things *will* change.  It remains to be seen if that change will be to the better.  Or not.

I don't 'do' new year resolutions.  Haven't for a very long time.  The majority of my life has been based on long range planning.  Not just a few months down the road, but at times, years.  You don't publish a book requiring thousands of tipped in samples in a few months.  It took the better part of 3 years just to get the text written and the samples woven, then years more to finish assembling the books.  I could never just think about the coming year, but had to be constantly looking ahead.  What I needed for Nov/Dec sales had to be started by April, at the latest.  Weaving is labour intensive and you can't create thousands of dollars of handwoven textiles in a few weeks.  The process itself requires weeks.  If I waited until the deadline 'loomed' I might as well forget it.  So the process of designing, ordering in the yarn, then putting one warp after another through the loom, then dry finishing, wet finishing, prepping the inventory for sale...needed to be done throughout the year.  All the financial outlay happening months before the sight of any income always a factor in my planning.

Other things, like writing articles, teaching, had to be fit into the nooks and crannies in my weaving schedule.

'Retiring' from doing the shows was a huge change in my schedule.  That didn't mean I was done weaving, though.  The ideas keep coming, clamouring to be made manifest.  The yarn never seems to diminish (although I've made inroads into the boxes and bags of yarn, truly I have, although you'd never know it based on how much is left!)

The first presentation I do in January is on 'stash management'.  After thinking about it for the past few days, I decided that I can't just talk about stash management.  I need to talk about my studio - how and why it is set up the way it is.  Because that is also part of managing my stash.  Where does it go?  

Today I'll take a walk through my studio and take photos.  I am making zero effort to 'prettify' the studio.  It will be exactly the way it is.  And I will be honest about what I do.  

Having a 'pretty' studio is not my main goal.  I have worked all my life in chaos, in part because I have done what I have done in a space that had to do triple/quadruple duty.  For many years there were goat trails through the space and many people would be taken aback at the disorder (to their eye) and apparent chaos.  

I can say that since retiring and stopping doing things like craft fairs, travelling to teach, reducing my teaching generally, I have been able to divest myself of much of the support stuff that goes along with those activities.  The shipping boxes, the individual stashes for the various workshop topics, the inventory of books, not yet sold.  I used to make kits, which was another layer of chaos and stash required.  All of that stuff is now pretty much gone.  I even have room on my shelves to store other things.  And nearly all of the boxes of yarn are gone.  (Not quite, but getting close.)

As this year comes to a close, I look back and take note.  Empty space on this shelf and that.  A reduction in yarn that I finally felt able to give away because I realized I truly would never, in what is left of my life, use it.  Some yarn was given away because I knew a younger person who *would* use it, when my eyesight simply made it too difficult to see, let alone try to put a warp into the loom.  That person may well get more - because I have more.

So as the new calendar year begins, I have no resolutions.  I have goals.  I have long range plans.  I have determination to keep weaving.  I have intentions.  But mostly?  I have the desire to keep encouraging new weavers.  None of those are 'resolutions'.  They come with flexibility to keep going.  Keep trying.  If I can't manage to do any of that on a day, they are not set in stone so I can pick them back up again another day when I feel able to do so.  

Marie Kondo had it right.  If it doesn't bring you joy, get rid of it.  But you don't need to do it today.  Like everything else about life, it can be done in stages.  When you are ready.  When you are able.  When you find the way to make it happen.

Most of all, I hope to keep weaving, keep writing, even if it is only for this blog.  Keep helping those who want my help.  My hourglass may not be full, but there are still grains of sand in it.  And I still have yarn to weave, ideas to bring into material form.

Wishing you all the very best for the coming year, in hopes that it becomes a little bit less interesting, a little bit boring, a little more calming, and a lot more creativity to brighten our lives.