In January of this year, I taught myself to crochet. I had some vague notions of how, and had made minor attempts before, but I decided that I was going to pick up the craft with seriousness. One of my dear friends works at a yarn boutique in Ottawa, Ontario, and I made my first very expensive yarn purchase and followed some online videos to successfully knit myself a cowl.
I use crochet to reward myself for, or distract myself from, painting. In a previous post, I mentioned that I spent the evening making soap in order to get some creativity stirring. Last night, I finished crocheting these little cacti for a friend, knowing that today I was going to be working hard on a painting. Maybe I have a sort of creative attention deficit disorder, and can only focus on one creative endeavour for only a particular length of time before having to switch things up.
It makes sense, in a way, doesn’t it? I know so many artists and makers who can dedicate themselves to creating beautiful pottery, or lovely jewelry, or gorgeous fused glass. But I like doing all three and why should I choose? Why can’t I dabble in a little bit of everything – hopping from lily pad to lily pad – making each pond a little lovelier with a different craft, a different medium, each time.