52.42... handmade
A few weeks ago we attended the wedding of some friends of Matt's. I didn't know them very well, but wanted to make something as a present, so settled on making three wool patchwork pillows. I chose patchwork because I don't know what their house looks like, and pillows because- like us- they're buddhist and extra cushions are handy when a lot of friends come over for a meeting or to chant with you (most of our meetings take place in peoples' living rooms). I'd wanted to make a more elaborate pattern than I did, but time was tight that week, so I stuck to something simple.
Because we arrived at the wedding by public transit I had to take the pillows with me to the ceremony, where lots of folks saw us either walking in or out with them. So it began even earlier than usual. "What? You made those? By yourself? That's amazing. You must be very talented". I am still, and always, astounded that people are impressed when I make the simplest things. Anyone who can thread a needle, knows how to operate scissors, and can recognize a right angle could have made these pillows. It's not hardly rocket science. The problem isn't that people can't do it. It's that they haven't done it in so long that they've forgotten the incredible, intense satisfaction of crafting something by hand. It's a selfish act. It makes the maker and giver feel good. That it pleases the recipient is almost secondary. :-) (OK- not really, but you know what I mean.)
When I was younger I had less responsibilities, and more time to make gifts for everyone I loved. This time of year was always my favorite because it was when I started on the holiday gifts. Quilts, clothes, scarves and sweaters, stuffed toys, painted folk art pieces, jewelry and beadwork, paper sculpture, pickles and relishes. More kinds of things than I can remember. But then something terrible happened. People started expecting the handmade gifts. Got a bit competitive about it. Howcome you made so and so a quilt but you haven't made me one yet? Could you make me a scarf like you made him? What I'd really like this year is..... It was awful. Instead of being something that came from my heart, my handmade gifts became something that felt like they were ordering it from a catalogue. And comparison shopping at that. It completely took the joy out of making gifts for me. So I pretty much stopped for most of a decade. Well, except the wedding quilts. That's sort of a given when family gets married. Though lately I've been getting the queries from those who are not intending to marry. Oy!
It took a while, but after a few years, I stopped getting the requests, and expectations. And- lo and behold- after a few more years I started feeling like making them again, So now thinking up small handcrafted gifts for family and friends is pure pleasure again. I still don't have the time I'd like to devote to it, so the gifts are smaller and simpler, but the making of them makes me happy in a way that nothing else does. Feels like an important part of my life is back in balance. It doesn't hurt that my loved ones have matured too, and have come to appreciate receiving the simpler offerings as much as they did the elaborate ones of yore.
Anyway, speaking of simple, here's a jar of the persimmon jam that I made this week to put away for holiday gifts. It was the only recipe I found for it so I tried it, but truth be told it's not as lively a jam as I had expected from the perky persimmon. It came out more pleasant than pizazzy. Ah well. But it's a pretty color, isn't it? And far from inedible. As an antidote, though, I think I'll make hot pepper jam in a few days. I'm working on a scarf for my niece over at Matt's on the weekends, and have about three more gifts in mind that I MIGHT have time for before the craziness of late December. We'll see. But I don't sweat it. I'm doing it for fun. If it gets stressful, what's the point?
52.42... handmade
A few weeks ago we attended the wedding of some friends of Matt's. I didn't know them very well, but wanted to make something as a present, so settled on making three wool patchwork pillows. I chose patchwork because I don't know what their house looks like, and pillows because- like us- they're buddhist and extra cushions are handy when a lot of friends come over for a meeting or to chant with you (most of our meetings take place in peoples' living rooms). I'd wanted to make a more elaborate pattern than I did, but time was tight that week, so I stuck to something simple.
Because we arrived at the wedding by public transit I had to take the pillows with me to the ceremony, where lots of folks saw us either walking in or out with them. So it began even earlier than usual. "What? You made those? By yourself? That's amazing. You must be very talented". I am still, and always, astounded that people are impressed when I make the simplest things. Anyone who can thread a needle, knows how to operate scissors, and can recognize a right angle could have made these pillows. It's not hardly rocket science. The problem isn't that people can't do it. It's that they haven't done it in so long that they've forgotten the incredible, intense satisfaction of crafting something by hand. It's a selfish act. It makes the maker and giver feel good. That it pleases the recipient is almost secondary. :-) (OK- not really, but you know what I mean.)
When I was younger I had less responsibilities, and more time to make gifts for everyone I loved. This time of year was always my favorite because it was when I started on the holiday gifts. Quilts, clothes, scarves and sweaters, stuffed toys, painted folk art pieces, jewelry and beadwork, paper sculpture, pickles and relishes. More kinds of things than I can remember. But then something terrible happened. People started expecting the handmade gifts. Got a bit competitive about it. Howcome you made so and so a quilt but you haven't made me one yet? Could you make me a scarf like you made him? What I'd really like this year is..... It was awful. Instead of being something that came from my heart, my handmade gifts became something that felt like they were ordering it from a catalogue. And comparison shopping at that. It completely took the joy out of making gifts for me. So I pretty much stopped for most of a decade. Well, except the wedding quilts. That's sort of a given when family gets married. Though lately I've been getting the queries from those who are not intending to marry. Oy!
It took a while, but after a few years, I stopped getting the requests, and expectations. And- lo and behold- after a few more years I started feeling like making them again, So now thinking up small handcrafted gifts for family and friends is pure pleasure again. I still don't have the time I'd like to devote to it, so the gifts are smaller and simpler, but the making of them makes me happy in a way that nothing else does. Feels like an important part of my life is back in balance. It doesn't hurt that my loved ones have matured too, and have come to appreciate receiving the simpler offerings as much as they did the elaborate ones of yore.
Anyway, speaking of simple, here's a jar of the persimmon jam that I made this week to put away for holiday gifts. It was the only recipe I found for it so I tried it, but truth be told it's not as lively a jam as I had expected from the perky persimmon. It came out more pleasant than pizazzy. Ah well. But it's a pretty color, isn't it? And far from inedible. As an antidote, though, I think I'll make hot pepper jam in a few days. I'm working on a scarf for my niece over at Matt's on the weekends, and have about three more gifts in mind that I MIGHT have time for before the craziness of late December. We'll see. But I don't sweat it. I'm doing it for fun. If it gets stressful, what's the point?