Honestly, some days it hardly feels like it was worth it to get out of bed.  Today was one of those, creatively. 

All I can see at the moment is what is wrong with this rug.  Not only did I get nothing done on it, but I spent part of the day ripping out what I've already done, and then allowing myself to fall into a funk.

Not helpful.

I broke my own rule which is:  Just show up and do the work.  So, that's my declared intention for tomorrow.  I'll get up, meditate, and then work on the rug. 

I will ignore the funk, and do the work.  It's the only way that art gets done.

Two people I greatly admire are leaving my life tomorrow.  I will sorely miss them.  They are flying home to another country, a country in turmoil.  They were here for only a year to study, and during that year I got to know them a little.  They are a young couple.  They are well-educated, thoughtful, kind, and passionate about peace and freedom.  When they get home, this passion will likely have a price.  They are being tracked by their despotic government.  They may no longer have jobs.  They may be targeted, and they may even be imprisoned.  I desperately hope they are safe from the moment their plane lands on their native soil, but I am not confident of it.

I am not naming names or their country.  Even though it's highly unlikely that this post could ever cause trouble, I would not want to create any risk by identifying them.

Even if all were well in their country--and it isn't, not at all--I likely would never see them again.  But now, I will not only miss them, I will worry about them from the moment they get on that plane.  Things are very bad where they are going, very dangerous, and they are afraid.  But they feel they must go, to work for peace.

Please let them succeed, and stay safe.  It takes a heart full of courage--and love--to act in accordance with their beliefs.

I drew them a farewell card this morning before I left the house for the day, and left it at their door.   Unfortunately I didn't photograph it before I gave it to them.  So on the way home this evening I decided to duplicate it as well as I can remember.  Here is my memory of the card, a tangled heart. 

It's really two hearts, since they are a couple with love and respect for each other.

Here is a small kaleidoscopic image made from that photo.  It has elements of a mandala that I will use to meditate on, while they are flying home.

Stay safe, and work for peace. 
Stay safe, and work for peace. 
Stay safe, and work for peace. 
I will miss you.

I could have titled this post:

• Blank Page Syndrome, or...
• The ideal versus the actual, or...
• The risks of creating, or...
• Living on the edge.

What I noticed today, as I really dig in to this new piece, is the initial curiosity, restlessness, and insecurity of beginnings. 

Oh sure, I liked my design on paper, where it looked so neat and tidy.

But in actually starting to produce the design in wool on monks cloth, I feel all the questions and doubts rushing forward.

Will I have enough yarn? 
I don't know.
Did I choose the right colors? 
I don't know.
Will the new techniques I want to use actually work? 
I don't know.
Will unfamiliar yarns/fabrics/techniques add to or subtract from the effect? 
I don't know.
Can I really mix those two fibers in the needle?
I don't know.
Does everyone create this level of utter chaos when working on something new?
I don't know.
Can I tolerate the mess everywhere, while I get this underway?
I don't know.
Am I doing this right?
I don't know.

...and on and on.  I found myself taking frequent breaks from the work.  Reading a book to distract myself.  Going onto Facebook.  Knitting.  Running errands.  Taking a nap. 

Avoid, avoid, avoid.

It is very hard to tolerate this level of "I-don't-know-ness."  I notice it every time I start something new. 

And yet...there is something exciting about it as well.  The novelty, the experimentation, the not-knowing if something is going to work, and when it doesn't work, the part where I figure out what will work.

I hope.

Truth is, I don't know.

Indeed, things do happen in the dark.  It's nearly midnight, and when I took the photograph below I realized that because I was punching without enough light, I am going to have to re-do this work tomorrow, when I have help from the sun. 

But that's ok.  I just wanted to get this rug underway, and I did!

What's wrong with it, you ask? 

This:

No worries.  Easy enough to correct when I can see better.  I freely admit this only reflects how desperate I was to get the piece started.  There is a deadline (3.5 months away!), and though I believe <hope> the work will go quickly, I want to GET GOING.

Yesterday I drove nearly 7 hours to finish collecting materials I'll need to complete the design.  Today I went into the studio and began punching on the edge.  But as I suspected, the studio is so freaking hot that it is not possible to be working there during July and August.  I took my frame apart and brought it home, setting it up in my air conditioned living room.  Thank the Goddess for air conditioning, since the rest of the week is projected to have high heat and high humidity.  Hardly an inspiration for working with wool!

Last night, when I got home after driving all those hours, I unpacked some of my swag (mixed in with my hand-dyed wool):

After breakfast with a good friend, I expect to repair what I did "in the dark" and I'm planning on making some real progress with the rug tomorrow.  I'm designing as I go, in terms of colors and techniques, and I can't wait to see how it will come together!

And a happy Fourth of July to all in the USA.  I am lazing about and having a quiet one; I'm also tidying up some of the many tasks on my to-do list.  Everyone has left town.  It's extremely quiet, and one telltale sign that it's a holiday weekend is the lack of traffic and a plethora of parking spots everywhere.

One of the tidying-up things was that I ran out of background yarn for an 8" sampler I was making (on the left above).  So close...and yet so far.  So, I dyed up a skein of yarn to match yesterday morning, and this morning I finished the punching:

I've gotten two other big tasks off my to-do list today, and made a good start on a third.  This is one reason I love long lazy holiday weekends.  Although I define them as "lazy" because I don't go out and do events, I usually get a tremendous amount done at home with minimum effort.  I don't feel that I've been pushing at all, and yet I've accomplished a lot.

Long live holiday weekends.  Especially summer holiday weekends when the weather is just perfect.

"Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability."
--Sam Keen

This is the last installment in the series on my experience at the week-long certification workshop at the Oxford Rug Hooking School in Cornwall Vermont last week. 

I'll start with some pictures again--these are from Chris H, with his permission.  They are photos he took on a brief walk he took up the dirt road just to the side of Amy's property.  (I did not take a walk all week--unusual--and I lived to regret it, but that's another story.  Note to self:  Always take at least one walk a day...)

It really was that beautiful there, and it was that way all week.  Sunny, warm but not too hot, low humidity,  Kind of staggeringly beautiful.

Amy is a genius as an instructor.  She had the entire week so well-planned...we introduced ourselves, talked about what makes a good instructor, and set goals.  And then we set about meeting our goals for the week.  Amy modeled the type of teacher we all hope to be.  She was completely organized, but not rigid.  She was great at time management, without making us feel we were on a "regimen."  She told us what we'd be learning for each day--and then we actually learned it.  And she had great handouts, clear and useful.  The kind of handouts we can use with our own students. 

At one point, the wonderful Diane Burgess came in for an entire morning to teach traditional rug hooking to those of us who had never tried our hands at that.  Diane specializes in teaching traditional hooking to newbies.

Amy even managed to squeeze in a thorough lesson on photographing rugs, something I think we all needed to learn.  (She's not mad here--the sun was so extraordinarily bright that she is squinting)

Every day she gave us tip after tip, provided lots of time to punch and to teach, taught new techniques, and then ended with a hilarious graduation ceremony.  I managed to photograph most of us at graduation, but unfortunately couldn't photograph myself and because Kathleen came right after me, I couldn't get her photo either. 

Here are the graduation pictures.  Note the kazoo in Amy's mouth as we go through the process!

Since we didn't have caps and gowns, we pitched balls of novelty yarn in the air to finalize the celebration.  And speaking of yarns:

Chris dyed up these colors before coming to the workshop and they caused a sensation.  I think all of us used some of his yarns in our work last week, and I also think all of us took home one of the colors.  Here are the colors he gifted us with.

I got to go home with the blue one, and just today used more of it to finish one of my homework assignments.  Chris raises sheep at his home, and spins; he also has the fleece commercially spun into rug yarn, but the hand-dyed yarns he dyed that are pictured above were, I think, from KnitPicks; they weren't from his own sheep.  Thanks, Chris, for letting us all take one of these home.

After graduation Amy gave us each a tiny charm, as well as our diplomas.  I loved the charm and am already using it on my keychain.

When I left on Saturday, I left with inspiration, with a good-sized manual for techniques, with the work I'd completed during the week, with plenty of resources, with plenty of homework ahead of me to complete the certification, and with the confidence that I could continue to improve and to pass on this technique as needed. 

I forgot to mention that part of the homework is to complete a rug of our own design within the next four months.  We had all sketched out our designs in advance, and one of my very favorite parts of the workshop was when we shared them with each other.  I think we were all stunned by the level of creativity shown.  I was impressed and inspired by what I saw and can't wait to see the completed rugs.

Because we had worked so hard, had bonded, and had so much fun, we were all pretty emotional as we were leaving.  I saw tears (and had a few myself) and although we were all eager to get home after such a long time away, there was substantial foot-dragging as we said goodbye.

My thanks to Amy, our incredible teacher, and to the school manager (and dyer extraordinaire) Heidi, who kept everything organized and running smoothly while we were there.

Final thoughts on all the inspirational, dear, creative people I met last week:

"When I find myself fading, I close my eyes and realize my friends are my energy." (Anonymous)
Thanks to all of you for making this such a wonderful experience.