It’s taken me decades to realize that gardening is my art. In pleasant weather I will happily spend every daylight hour working outside. I’m a collector of plants, and I move them around like furniture, looking for just the right arrangement. I love wildness, bound by structure.
Every fall, I imagine I will spend the winter planning and preparing. I will clean up all the brush piles, sort and organize the mounds of rocks and bricks, make the chicken coop into a little Taj Mahal.
Then I run smack into the reality of Oklahoma’s chilly, damp winters and the ever-shortening days. It’s difficult to be inspired when the sun dips down an hour after the temperature becomes bearable. And so, each winter I find myself desperately searching for some craft or hobby to pass the time until spring.
I tend to dive head-first into any new fascination. My craft room – something I never imagined I’d have – is a testament to hobbies briefly loved then quickly abandoned. My supplies are organized with Pinterest-worthy precision. I could make just about anything, if I could figure out what I want to do.
In the past few months I’ve taught myself sewing, card-making, and quilling. I’ve reupholstered a wing-back chair, and built a clock from the cover of our house’s old cistern. I’ve dabbled in homemade alcohol inks, and stamped tiles to create coasters for a gift exchange. I’ve been surprised by what brings me enjoyment, and what leaves me feeling unsatisfied.
So my goal these days is to figure out what does capture my imagination, and why. I’ve loved making things for the garden – wind chimes, suncatchers, little bits of whimsy in concrete and wood. Fixing things never seems to get old.
Why do I love to sew, but dislike cutting paper? And yet, I think quilling is something I’ll stay with. For a few days, at least.
I’m learning that I’m inspired by color and randomness – something gardening offers in no short supply.
I can grow stuff. That’s one thing I’ve never lost interest in. Here I’ll share what I know, and also what I learn about the various and sundry new things that I try. I hope you’ll come along for the ride.