The other day I was down in the basement clearing it out. Step by step. One item at a time. It was open more project that I carried out this year. One more idea that bloomed into fruition.
As I walked away from the basement, Mary Comeau said, "You failed miserably on your word for the year." We both laughed as I was embarking on yet another project.
I had hoped to steep in 2022. It was the plan. Steeping became about growing stronger, the way a tea bag sits in a cup. I can tell you I did steep. I can also tell you that at times I reinvented the word steep to suit myself. Steeping meant growing stronger. It meant deepening. And yes it did. But really was that the intention I has set out with?
Honestly, she may be right. I may have failed, but I did carry that word with me, and it helped me periodically assess what I was doing. It was a reference point to help me understand myself. That is all a word can really do. You can use it to bring you back to yourself. If you want it to.
This year I am going into the new year uncertain of a word. And being fine with that.
There are so many good words to carry.
Love, being one of them.
Love what you do. Love who you are with.
Love your family. Love your work.
Love one another.
Such good advice. Now let me follow it.
I am going into 2023 full of love and hope for my art. I want to discover new thoughts and ideas, new materials, and follow these into making rugs. thinking about a new year fills me with a kind of wonder and fires up my imagination. I wish the same for every other artist, for every other soul.
That we will have love, find love, but that mostly we will be love.
Happy New Year.