I’ve been involved in a few activities lately – none of them to do with graphic design.
If you have been reading my missives you will know that I have been incredibly remiss at the whole design carry-on this year.
The grand plan for 2021 was to create the next book in my series. It was going to be set in the 1840s and use the narrative arc of gardening. Gardens would have given me scope for looking at leisure activities, medicinal discoveries and keeping up with those damn Joneses aesthetics,
But, as yet is has not happened.
Instead, I have been frantically involving myself in self help groups. I have joined a stop drinking alcohol group, a nutrition group and a wardrobe styling group.
In two of the self help groups the suggestion of revisiting childhood activities emerged. “Well, that’s stupid” I thought. “I’m not going to start playing with dolls as a 54 year old woman!”
I was surprised at my cynicism. I chatted about this to my daughter as we recently strolled around Cork city and found ourselves in Vibes and Scribes. Well! Surrounded by fabrics I became overwhelmed with the need to sew. In a swift double-take I realised I wanted to sew little dolls. I bought the necessary materials and sailed out of the shop with a delightful anticipation of what I would create.
So far, I have made one doll. And it is absolutely dreadful. Who knew that making a rag doll would be so hard. However, I am enjoying the task of sewing. My hands are happy to be touching fabric and making little stitches. It is slow, quiet work.
I’m not sure how sewing is going to help me create the next book. But for now, I am content to sew quietly and think about past women, who, for centuries, have spent their days with with needle and thread in hand.