I had the following conversation recently when going through my fabric to see what I could make that day:

Me (to friend): Would you buy a lime green tea towel?
Friend: No. Definitely not. Sorry, but just, no.
M: Really? I kinda like it.
F: It's kinda bright. Does anyone have a lime green kitchen?
M: Well, most people don't, but I would suspect that there are lots of people that like it as an accent colour..
F: No, I definitely wouldn't get one. I like the natural coloured ones, though!
M (to younger hipper sister-in-law who just walked in): Would you buy a lime green tea towel?
SIL: Absolutely!
M: :)

F (two week later, having just rented a house not far from my own): Did you end up making some lime green tea towels?
M: Yes, why?
F: It turns out I'll be needing one in that colour after all..... So it's either renovate the kitchen or buy a tea towel that matches.
M: :)

I will definitely have some lime green linen tea towels in the shop. Don't forget! I'm still on target for getting the Etsy shop up and running on March 17. I'm so excited! I'll be posting some sneak peeks in the next little while!

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post on the subject of Comfort. I talked about the things I think of when I look at that picture of the wool fabric on the wooden chair with the embroidered linen pillow, and I realize that many of those things are tactile: scratchy wool, nubby linen, smooth wood. These are all textures that I love.

In that post, I also mentioned a guy named Christopher Alexander, who wrote a series of architecture/planning books that talk about building around the concept of comfort and ease and functionality. In the books, he calls this essence the "quality without a name" - the feeling you get in a space where things have lined up to make you feel like you are in a state of easy contentment.

I know what he's talking about - you can get it when you walk into a house that's been set up well (not necessarily having to do with the decorations, but where you feel comfortable), or, in a quiet library that feels intimate and private and cozy. When I saw that picture of the woolen chair with the linen pillow, I got that same feeling. To me, I don't think it's necessary for that quality or essence to solely come from a space. I definitely think place and space play a part in that "quality without a name", but I also think there are other things that come in: your own frame of mind, maybe the temperature, the people around you, etc. I think you can have one of those moments anywhere - even when you're sitting in your rusty old stationwagon that's falling apart, but you're driving down a beautiful country road, the air smells like daffodils, the perfect song is on the radio, and you're wearing your favourite jeans. It's simply where everything lines up to give you a real sense of contentment.

As you know, I'm taking a break from my busy traveling schedule. Over the next little while, I want to focus on finding those textured moments of contentment - whether they are in an old bookstore, over a glass of really good wine with a friend, or even just an object that makes a heart sing. Focusing on these moments will help me as settle into a healthy routine, they'll keep me inspired, they'll help me stay in the present. I know they will help feed my creative moments too. I hope they will for you too.

Every Friday I'll be talking about a Moment Without A Name. Sometimes it will an essay, sometimes just a picture. I know my moments will not necessarily be the same as yours. Please join me on Fridays to share your moments too.

I'm so happy with this wooly piece of art I could cry. Literally. It's a case of loving something, walking away, thinking and dreaming about it, and going back to get it.

A few months ago, I was in Thunder Bay for work. I ate at an organic veggie restaurant for lunch to get my healthy fill of lentils and sprouts and juice. I came out and found myself in a little area of shops that all feature handmade, free-trade, and ethical products. I went into the place that caught my eye first - it had Craft in its name(!) - The Craft Collective.

Opening the door, I saw the shop was up a flight of stairs. The owners of the shop had put things on the wall in the stairway, not only to entice you up the stairs, but to brighten up the space. Well, it worked, as I was smitten with the place before I even got to the main area. This felted wool hanging caught my eye immediately and I fell in love. I reached out and touched it and let out a contented sigh. However, it didn't have a price tag, so I wasn't certain that it was for sale.

I went upstairs and was delighted with the rest of the space as well. It turns out it is used for both a retail space and a workshop. The Craft Collective is exactly that - a collective of young women who came together with the same passion - making beautiful things. Although not always at the same time, they all work and sell their wares in the shared space. What a great concept: not only is it a great way to get their business roots settled, they've also built in their own support system as they grow and put themselves, and their creations, out there.

I asked the woman working in the workshop area about the wool art in the stairwell. It turns out it was hers! She made it in Art School in British Columbia, while studying in fibre and textile design at the Kootenay School of Arts. It turns out she dyed all the wool by hand before felting it, and worked with different layers to give the final effect. I asked her if it was for sale, and she said she hadn't thought about it as it was mainly put there to decorate the stairwell, but she was open to the idea.

Many people would have just said that they wanted to buy it, right then and there, and would have negotiated a price.

Me? I got freaked out a little by trying to negotiate a fair price, and so I let her know how great her shop was and left!

I thought about that wall hanging for weeks. Maybe a couple of months.

I was back in town a while ago, and found myself at the same restaurant next to the craft shop, and I thought of the wall hanging again. I decided that if it was still there ("Please be there still!") I would make it mine. So, I went in again, and the same woman was there working on a project and the Hanging Was Still There! Ohthankgod. So this time, I struck up a conversation with the lovely woman who's name is actually Tuija Hansen. I had found out by this point that she knew my sister-in-law, so that was a good start. We also talked about linen, so then I knew for sure she was a kindred spirit. She makes amazing clothes out of cosy, often recyced fabrics. I brought up the wall hanging again, and within a few minutes we had agreed on a fair price. Not so hard at all and we're both happy! It is now hanging in my living room, where I can look at it and sigh every day!

If you are in Thunder Bay, definitely check out the Craft Collective. There are several lovely ladies there who would love to show you their creations! If you are going to the Winnipeg Folk Festival this summer, go and say hi to Tuija - she got chosen to be one of the talented people in the artisan section!

Amour au Jardin du Luxembourg, Paris

It's been three days since Valentine's Day and I'm still thinking about love. I had a terrible week last week while I was away on travel, and so it was nice to come home to an early celebration (flowers and champagne, then we went to see Amélie at the Bytown Cinema, then for a 5-course meal at the Brookstreet Hotel). It was fantastic! But at the same time, I was also still entirely exhausted.

I've been traveling for work for a long time, off an on for about 4 years. It's exhausting, grueling, difficult. Not only because of the physical travel, but also for the kind of work our office does - it's emotionally demanding. Recently I was finding myself constantly tired, irritable, and without much energy. My committments to good work were becoming harder, and my committments to myself about creating more everyday were becoming non-existent. I was consistenly under the weather, with colds and sinus issues.

So. I finally sat down and listened to my self.

Self: I'm so tired! I'm so sick! I'm so sick and tired! Have you not heard me say this every single day for a year? Two years?
Me: I know. It's getting kinda tiring hearing you talk about how tired you are.
Self: I know. It's really getting old.
Me: Are you saying I'm getting old?
Self: No, I'm saying... oh nevermind. See, your reactions are becoming defensive and snappy. It's time to listen and stop all this travel.
Me: Work's counting on me!
Self: I'm counting on you.
Me: Oh yeah, I forgot about you.
Self: I know.
Me: Oh. Hi. I hear you.

I wasn't listening to the aircraft safety instructions that I hear a hundred times and year - put your own oxygen mask on before you help those around you.

I went and talked to my boss and now I'm taking some time away from traveling. Thank god. I'll be home for the next while, and I'll be able to focus on sleeping well, eating right, exercising, making, and creating. That means I'll be able to focus more on Manusmade and really getting things off the ground. It also means I'll be more myself as I catch up on my sleep and get healthy - kinder, funnier, and more annoyingly bouncy.

Make sure that your thoughts of love take into consideration not just those around you, but you too. Take the time to listen when your body talks, whether that means taking a rest, or energizing yourself through making stuff and exercising. And when the pressure drops, PLEASE, suck in that oxygen!!!