Thanks for visiting my blog. I’m documenting my quest to have 60 adventures - one a week for 60 weeks - leading to my 60th birthday. Enjoy!
All in Creative Adventures
While I used to harbor a stereotype of knitting as an elderly, Miss Marple-ish pursuit, Ann Hood changed my view. Hood’s novel The Knitting Circle, based on the unimaginable grief she experienced in real life after the death of her five year old daughter, portrays the magical, healing powers of knitting and of a community of knitters.
Of course, Miss Marple never represented the diversity of knitters and the art (yes, art) they produce.
I think my resistance to getting a tat shows my age. So many younger people I know - in their 20’s, 30’s and even 40’s - have tattoos as a matter of course. They serve as a right of passage or a means of self-expression. Not so in my generation. Very few friends my age sport any ink.
Have you ever considered making your own shoes? It never occurred to me. I usually wear my shoes until they fall apart, then I go to the store, try some on, and buy the ones that feel good. I never thought about the craftsmanship (or lack thereof) involved in their creation. I actually never thought about their creation at all.
Chrissy, on the other hand, thinks a lot about what it takes to make a high-quality sandal.
As a preschool teacher, I often play with clay. I love the silky feel of it, the way it holds your pinches and pulls, even its play-in-the-dirt messiness. But I had never used a potter’s wheel, and imagined a zen-like experience as my hands connected with the spinning clay.
Not exactly.
Those of you with natural singing ability don’t know how lucky you are.
Since my first ever singing lesson over a month ago, I’ve been practicing and continuing to work with voice teacher Akela Franklin. When you’re starting from scratch, learning to keep a tune takes a lot of hard work, both physical and emotional.
Laughter really is a tonic. And in an improv class, you’re guaranteed to laugh. A lot.
You’d laugh if you saw me with Nico, an Improv classmate, pretending we were in a library discussing the merits of self-help books. You might laugh at me rather than with me, but you’d definitely laugh.
Who doesn’t love to sing?
For me, though, singing holds both pleasure and pain. When I’m alone or with my kids, I sing my heart out, despite their rolled eyes and cries of “Mom, please!” Around other people I rein in my cringe-worthy voice.
Although you’d never know it to look at my messy house, I like precision. Only detail-oriented people like me find it satisfying to edit, for example - to think of the most fitting word and to review for grammar and punctuation. Ditto for sewing, where attention to detail means the difference between clean seams and a clearly home-made look. So no surprise that I found mosaic-making fun and relaxing.
“Glassblowing” conjures images of a guy pulling a wad of molten glass out of the furnace on the end of a blowpipe, twirling it around, lifting the pipe to his lips and blowing it into an exquisite work of art.
That’s exactly what experienced artisans do, whether guy or gal - but not novices.
I mean, would you trust a newbie with a glob of glass heated to over 2,000 degrees?
