Craft, A Lasting Love?

I’ve come to realize that the act of creating is a lot like falling in love. Butterflies flutter in the belly, the chest begins to swell and there’s an unexpected skip in each step. Passion takes over and it’s unclear where you begin and your love ends. Over time the relationship is tested and either matures or fizzles out. For the loves that last, the cycle perpetuates and at the end of the day what’s left is a feeling of coming home.

I fell hard at an early age. It started as I was flipping through tv channels looking for something that sparked my interest. That big purple dinosaur would come on screen and I’d skip right past, unless I saw him pulling out that blue tote with shooting stars and purple handles. The one filled with gizmos and gadgets and odds and ends. THEN I would turn up the volume and scoot in close. The butterflies would start batting their wings as the children on screen sang “What can we make today?”. My heart would swell as I revelled in the amplified sounds of folding paper, cutting cardboard and marker tips pressed to paper. At that moment I couldn’t just sit there, I had to make something too. I’d get out my own craft bag and get to work drawing, painting, writing books, making dolls, crafting jewelry or whatever I could get my hands on. As I worked on the floor of my den, the sounds of the tv would get farther and farther away. The world disappeared and I would find myself quiet, content, home.

Just as a mother might prepare her daughter for her first date, mine showed me that with a little imagination we could create anything. She too had fallen in love with craft and could be found at her sewing machine at all hours happily making. My mother taught me everything she knew about sewing, crocheting, drawing, painting and so much more, expanding my artillery for creation. As I got older I started to notice that despite her incredible talents, she only allowed herself to enjoy her passion after work, after laundry, after dinner, after everyone else was taken care of. I came to believe that this love had to be hard. I’d have to grow up and work a respectable job during the day and maybe permit myself time to create if time and money allowed.

I bided my time, holding on to my passion, knowing that soon I’d have to let it go. I interned at a nearby craft museum and was shocked to find that there were grown people out there who were allowed to pursue their passion and just make, but surely I could not be one of them. I dutifully applied to college, but I made sure it was an art school. I took on a mountain of student loan debt and worked multiple jobs to pay the difference, because I thought that’s just what adults do. They suffer through the majority for a potential moment of joy.

When I wasn’t in class, or working late nights you could find me on the floor of my studio with my craft bag, at home in my world. But it was like the highschool relationship that I knew couldn’t last. Once I graduated I needed to become a “real person” and get a stable job to pay off those loans. It didn’t matter if I was in love, I had to be reasonable.

I spent the next 7 years searching for a stable income, unhappy, feeling silly for spending all of my time and money on an education that I told myself was useless. I convinced myself that, like my childhood sweetheart, my love for making was just a fling, it never meant anything, it couldn't pay the bills. Eventually I landed a job managing a yoga studio which felt good enough and gave me the flexibility to continue to draw, paint, collage and make on my occasional off hours. It felt a little scandalous, making, knowing it wouldn't go anywhere. My trysts with my craft bag dwindled as I focused on chipping away at student loan debt.

One evening I was on my computer in the lobby, as a meditation class went on in the studio. An older woman, clearly frustrated, burst out of the doors to collect her things. She told me that she simply couldn’t do it. Everyone else seemingly dropped into a place of peace, but it wasn’t for her. I’ve known that feeling. Not everyone can drop everything, sit still and get quiet. Even though I have been practicing traditional yoga since I was a teenager, a traditional meditation practice does not come easily to me. I found early on that to access this place inside oneself that we refer to as meditation or flow state, is that world I go to when I am making. That loving home space inside my heart that I sometimes got to visit. So, I asked her if there was something that she does at home where the outside world goes quiet. She lit up and began telling me about the collages she makes in her spare time. I told her that’s her meditation. She came back every week after that with news of her latest projects. I started to realize that perhaps I didn't have to choose between passion and stability.

In early 2020 I got the opportunity to open my own yoga studio and made the jump. I left my job, started an LLC and began the permitting process for my biggest project yet. I couldn’t wait to open a studio that would encourage students to find their own way to that little peaceful world inside their hearts. A place where I could empower others to live a mindful, creative and happy life. I planned traditional yoga and meditation classes as well as times for community groups to gather, make and discuss. Then March came and the world shut down.

I shifted to teaching online and anxiously awaited the grand reopening of the world. I was restless and frustrated every day as I realized that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. I grieved what felt like a lost love and tried to come to terms with the fact that I would once again have to make a choice between what I love to do and what pays the bills. Looking for reprieve I would get out my craft bag and go to that home in my heart. I started selling the candles, the macrame, the jewelry and the other creations that were accumulating from my creative sessions in an effort to try to keep my dream going. As I was making sales I had a new revelation that I could have the life I want while also teaching others to do the same. I can be a maker and use my creative skills to help others fall in love with their own lives. There can be a healthy balance.

Now as the world finally is reopening, my plans for my creative studio are grand. It won’t just be a place for one to move their bodies on a mat, but a safe space to learn they too can live the life they want. I too will spend time each day creating for myself and ultimately others. Everyone deserves a lasting love and a safe space inside where they can find peace. I vow to do my best to hold on to my love and work hard so that others can find theirs too.