I have returned to cloth. I have had enough of the relaxing effects of crochet. They have done me a world of good. However, I have realized there is an adverse affect. My mind becomes dormant. I stop being that questioning, imaginative person that I love being. The cloth, on the other hand makes me search, question, wander, and some times loose my sense of reality.
It is when I get lost within the fibers that I thrive.
So after a few slices of my banana almond bread smeared with nutella and the obligatory coffee, I went upstairs to my space.
Straightened things up after a messy weekend. And looked for my forgetten self. Bits an pieces were hidding underneath bags and dust. And among them I found my first large cloth, Monster City. Something I never got around finishing . Now that I looked at it again, with a different mind set all I can see is anger, and fear. I could not continue with it.
I took it apart. There were still pieces that I can use later. And the girl, well, how could I get rid of her. She is a reminder of my battle, that dark period. She needs some light and ease after such a struggle.
So I sit here, surrounded by cloth and it feels so good. I feel eager to see what can come out of my happiness.
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