Instead of planting things in a row like Mr Nelson impressed upon my Ag (agriculture) class, I put all my seeds in a film canister, gave it a shake and flung them into my plot. They grew like everyone else’s, but just all over the shop and on top of each other – ‘a more organic process’ I explained. Despite missing the assignment brief, my garden was awesome but complicated…
These recent rainy days somehow stopped me baking 2015 plans, and my sewing machine took center place on the kitchen table; a welcomed break from the pressure of to-do-lists and mushrooming shoulds. A new year is gravid with possibilities – but also accumulating expectations.
All the things I want to do, begin the same; small and green with anticipation, but their pressure gathers – and like too many insects pressed to the glass of a filling jar, they run out of space to grow. I get bored, and plant something else but at the same time. The hope of it all coming together is so sweet, and best felt when things are almost boiling over, baking and rising simultaneously.
So now, one thing at a time, and the joining of fabric begins. With all the colours, textures and delicious herstories of my bower bird scraps, I’m distracted enough to do just one flag at time. The focus is meditative, I’m here all afternoon till midnight, thinking instead of the women these little pieces came though…
Hankie red with women’s hair like spaghetti bolognese from my mother-in-law, who sips tea in a similar way,
A pair of gorgeous lace undies from nearly 10 years ago…
Fuchsia velveteen rose with a green sequined center, I suspect from my first tricky group girl house.
Floral patches from my aunty’s hands in pinks, creams and yellow – afternoon-tea-&-bickie-calm like her.
A blue silk scarf I never really liked but wore to my nanna’s funeral because it was hers, at home now stitched by an opal heart her daughter gave me. Both women made family & home the center of their world.
Lace edged art manifest through the hands of my husband’s great grandmother (not to be hung next to the undies flag).
A chunky pearl broach from my nanna, twisted like an oyster’s hors d’oeuvre – quite the opposite to her tiny modest self.
A prized silver horseshoe my mum put towards my silver charm bracelet (back before Pandora got to something simple and pure) and a button she thought would be useful in my sewing kit.
A golden vintage hunger gameish broach from my best friend – a creative beauty in my life,
and a markazit spiderweb fairy, gifted by a gorgeous woman who taught me all about spreading my wings and the bliss of hot muffins for breakfast.
A rag from my flatmate’s skirt I kept since living with two pixies near the beach. The embroidered strawberries fell to shreds and I ferreted away a piece, immortalising some of her driven inspiration and laid-back awesomeness. Given by the other, a long stripy blue fish lure bead (the bringer of good things).
Precious porcelain earring shaped by my friend, her nanna’s lace fossilized forever on its skin.
A blue gemstone pendant my bestie from 3rd grade gave me, a powerful woman both strong and fragile as only women can be.
A piece of twine from my goddess friend, a creative mother who bakes wholesome bread and parcels it up in brown paper with a string, delivered to my door like a favorite thing.
A scuffed red dog tag from my Britta puppy, a most special girl in my life.
Green rosed ribbon stitched with red cotton by my knee on the sewing machine pedal (so I could sit on the floor), back in the most curious of happy houses.
With a nod to the women in my life all planted in a row above my bed, I’d like to think this year brings both sewing-machine-day-dreams and completed goals (with less jumbled seeds to the wind).
All the best for making your year yours.