My room is quiet and a sanctuary at the end of a hectic day.
There is an aluminum cup on the little round table sprouting a few scrappy stems of rosemary that I borrowed from the restaurant garden the other evening, along with my hand sewing project that is an antidote to my unconscious moments of needing to do something. A small grey felt bag given to me by a student in New Zealand and a hand made needle book, another emotional gift. The felt bag holds the glorious contents for travel.
I have classical music lulling me into a false sense of peace because in 15 minutes, I have to be ‘on’ again. On to chat, On to share and On to answer questions that are often directed to their personal project, both, now and from the past. I switch gears instantly and listen with genuine interest.
I shut my eyes for just a few minutes and the day passes in front of my eyes like a vision of a 1950’s bike rider on a country road. It’s good, it’s warm and she’s riding fast, breeze in her hair, the sun beating down and bare arms.
I have a collection of mind images that one could say is a form of meditation. I’ve learned to snatch them from their place of rest and use them with a purpose.
Every day brings forth a bit of a bonus in one way or another. I don’t think I have a day that is ordinary, there is always a spark of inventiveness or even a little creative crusading for the team. Who wouldn’t be flattered that your peers are interested in your art.
I’m part of a wonderful group who make Textile Art their chosen career. We’ve all worked hard, we’ve taken the good with the difficult and made it significant in our personal life.
When I see the spark of an idea dart from the hands of the tutor to the heart of student it makes everything worthwhile.