how creativity infects life

addendum: 
i edited this a little, especially trying to explain how creativity works for me,
and the alignment, etc. is still wonky, but i'm leaving it. 
apologies.
i still maintain that others, non-creatives, see it as procrastination. 
creatives know better,
but still have to manage it.
remember that poster from the 70's? 
"Sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits."

sunday's post:
i was informed by my love that procrastination is part of creativity, 
(research proves it)
that the gestation taking place while procrastinating is part 
of the process. 
i like that.
/girls; it's what we're not.
sometimes creativity springs spontaneously from need:
i had to fix those basket handles.
as i walked past my work table i noticed
two long pieces of thick hemp string
that tied up a recent gift
and had to be reused. 
they were right there ready for me.
many years ago now i heard the term "compost dyeing".
way before i knew what it could be, 
then eventually found websites,
still not understanding much i made it up and then, and then, 
i found an amazing book, eco colour,
  and fortunately met india flint, and ecodyeing, now contact printing.
she who is teaching via facebook right now, a very creative, online class.
i'm getting ahead of myself, though...
knowing what i did about compost and natural dyeing
i put it together and thought: what if i wetted a fabric,
hung it in my green cone composter and let the heat and microorganisms make some color/pattern.
so i tried it.
meanwhile, back at the ranch, as they say,
there was a 55 gallon barrel 
brought over by a riding friend to make practice jumps for my mare and me.
it had burned in a shed fire and then rusted, being exposed to weather.
i rolled it into my yard, 
wrapped white cotton sheeting around it, tied it on
and wet it out. 
everyday. 
for a couple of autumn months.
i used: water, vinegar, milk, wine, beer...whatever interesting liquid i had that day.
mostly it was water.
the final cloth was colored and patterned, 
salvaged before any weather damage.
i washed it well, dried and ironed,
 and off it went to become someone else's shirt.
this is what it is: 
gestation. creativity. procrastination?
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
i've been making small sheets of paper
from the pulp leftover after bigger runs at school.
(2 pounds of flax = a bunch of large papers and 
a gallon of leftover pulp too small for the big equipment)
i make little papers
 and can be at home, in the kitchen! 
and manage pressing and drying at my leisure.
early, i sometimes wear my nightclothes.

and the other day the ups delivery guy and later on a state trooper both startled me

stomping up on the back porch in a snowstorm, 

when i was making paper in the kitchen (they were both ama/uzed).
i, fortunately was clothed appropriately.
but where these new sheets will go, 
prints and books,
this is what i'm working on now.
all the while i'm prepping for pbi, 
and for summer/fall papermaking class, 
and thinking about another cool opportunity that i hope
i can share with you once it's finalized.
i found this ⇧ while tidying up at school.
the storage closet is now easy to navigate.
and this year there's winter, 
who does winter's own creative work being poor man's fertilizer, 
and slowing down drivers of cars and buggies.
(slowing down the work on my roof, too.)
a woven landscape,
with new snow and now freezing rain today 
 hearing from both kids
during a snowstorm in one day 
highlighted my week
 and the neighbor three
  
see three, now? 
often joined by two others often check in during the dayout back the snow around the barn
looks like a sewing machine went wild
stitching patterns all aboutand as usual 
i see weaving everywherealders and other brush
woven by wild grapevine suggest patterns for books
maps for living
a life.

settling, now

 i look through dyed shifu
into the sky
where a spruce and a maple 
take up air space
and this morning
i'm threading heddles
guarded by my best friend
a long warp on my little loom
cotton for shifu
 surrounded by the heat of northern summer
the colours of australia
 tiny packets of threads
from roz's class
 and my little hidey sack
how they look in the mottled summer light
this flax paper is waiting
my working into it's strong surface
 a few things to think about
high summer
hot
stormy
insectful
blessed.