So, it's the end of my first week of being radically creative.
I thought that this week I would be a knitting demon wearing at least half a sock, or be an ever-so-slightly improved cook, or a less confused user of my sewing machine. But I'm not. I find myself, at the end of my first week of being creative, absorbed into the world of blogging magic...
I know what HTML is. I can add widgets to websites. I have built a blog. I have created something new. I have discovered Tiny Chat. A mini chatting world where you can connect with other like-minded, creative (or ever-so-slightly bonkers) people. And chatted with friends, and some strangers.
We talked about tapestry and poetry. We chatted about knitting. We spread woolly love.
I have discovered that there is a world of creative, crafting men out there who are making dresses for their wives, knitting socks for their sisters, and crocheting hats for their children. Empowered women who are making sweet music with drums.
I've been surprised by how frightened I have been after committing myself so publicly to the challenge, and how uncomfortable it can feel when you really put yourself, and your ideas, out there.
Then a friend has left a comment, or sent me an email telling me how much they have enjoyed what they have read so far. And I've felt supported.
Next week? I don't know yet. But I'm getting the urge to answer the age old question:
"If I make rice crispie cakes, does that mean I've baked?"
I thought that this week I would be a knitting demon wearing at least half a sock, or be an ever-so-slightly improved cook, or a less confused user of my sewing machine. But I'm not. I find myself, at the end of my first week of being creative, absorbed into the world of blogging magic...
I know what HTML is. I can add widgets to websites. I have built a blog. I have created something new. I have discovered Tiny Chat. A mini chatting world where you can connect with other like-minded, creative (or ever-so-slightly bonkers) people. And chatted with friends, and some strangers.
We talked about tapestry and poetry. We chatted about knitting. We spread woolly love.
I have discovered that there is a world of creative, crafting men out there who are making dresses for their wives, knitting socks for their sisters, and crocheting hats for their children. Empowered women who are making sweet music with drums.
I've been surprised by how frightened I have been after committing myself so publicly to the challenge, and how uncomfortable it can feel when you really put yourself, and your ideas, out there.
Then a friend has left a comment, or sent me an email telling me how much they have enjoyed what they have read so far. And I've felt supported.
Next week? I don't know yet. But I'm getting the urge to answer the age old question:
"If I make rice crispie cakes, does that mean I've baked?"
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