This funny little bag came out of my studio last week.
You see, we had just had ourselves a bit of a rough day. Oh, nothing truly terribly happened, it was just a normal really 'full' day of mothering four little ones but with much more drama than seems to occur on most days. At every turn I took, I was met with some crisis or another of child-like but epic proportions. The day dragged on...and on...and it seemed I never was able to catch my breath before someone/something else fell, broke, got hurt, peed, or otherwise needed me.
When everyone was finally asleep, I found myself completely restless, whiny, sweaty and slimy, and oh-so grumpy. I plopped down in a chair in my studio and looked for something to do. None of the projects I needed to do, or had planned to do appealed to me. But I needed to do something...and with the same fervor and energy of the day I had just had, I started sewing. Grabbing fabric from anywhere with no plan, I stitched away. I slipped into a zone with the sound of the machine in front of me. With familiarity and little thought, I felt the iron in my hand. I stitched and sewed and folded and ironed.
And as trite as it sounds, with each step, the frustrations of the day worked themselves out with the wrinkles of the fabric; and with the 'coming together' of a simple little bag, I felt myself coming back together a little bit too.
Then, with a final stitch and the coinciding deep breath, I looked at what I had made. And I began to laugh. I laughed so loud and suddenly I nearly woke up all those sweet little ones I had spent so long getting to sleep hours earlier.
The bag, of course...is just fine. Fully functional. Just, well, so very much not my thing. At all. But did I regret a single moment of making it? No! And so...with that good chuckle I left the mess and turned the lights off in my studio. Kissed my sleeping babies, took a bath and went to bed - feeling so much more at peace.
Sometimes it really is all about the process.
I thought the story ended there - in a heap on my studio floor, waiting for the fabric pieces to be taken apart and repurposed again. But the next day, this purple little dragon came my way, with this very bag (turned inside out) on her shoulder.
"Where did you get that?" I asked this purple dragon.
"In your studio room. Can it be mine?" she replied.
"Of course! What will you use it for?"
"Oh thank you, Mama! It's perfect for my beautiful bits of nature." (Yes, she really said that. And that's also the 'purpose' of nearly a dozen bags she's claimed.)
And so, this funny little bag is now home to a big pile of...grass.