I'm not entirely sure where to start: I used to write. For many years, actually, I posted several times a week on a blog. Then I got pregnant, had a baby, and quit. I felt everything so much more than my already previously sensitive self, and I was too worried that I'd write too much, share too much, be too much, not that I had the time. I still doubt that I'll share here more than a few times a month, but it's time for me to get back to my writing, to sharing, expressing, and just being.
I love beginnings. The hope, the aspiration, the no-baggage-from-yesterdays. I love the idea of bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils, new notebooks, stacks of crisp, unwashed fabrics. Those things can hinder, though, and if I've learned anything this last year, it's this: you need to just do. Start. Be. Jump in. Don't wait for the right moment because you might miss the best one. I'm done saving my best fabrics for when I actually have time to make an exquisite, time-consuming quilt. I'll be 70 and the fabric will be 40 years old and I'll have stored it way past it's prime. Make something now, something you'll enjoy- even though it's not perfect and you have to stay up late to work on it. Work with your hands on what makes you happy now.