I have never really thought of myself as an Artist, or a Writer, or an Artisan though I have spent my entire life creating, writing (for myself, always) and making. Thinking and feeling the end products of my making. Is this what an artist is? I still don't know. Though I do know that there are people of my acquaintance who think, act, communicate and make less creatively than I do who call themselves 'creatives' or artists.

Perhaps this is a reflection of my own insecurities. I am never truly satisfied with the things I make. I always know where I could have done better, where my 'allah marks' are (the imperfections in the finished item - as only allah is perfect - imperfections that nobody else notices but which I know exist), the corners I can and have cut, that the leg-seam should have been pressed over 5 cm further down/up or that there is a crack in the paint where I didn't let the first coat dry long enough. The list goes on. Maybe all artists feel this way, I don't know.

All I know is that I am only ever truly at peace when I am making. Cooking, sewing, knitting, gardening, painting, gluing, whatever. And I am slowly coming around to the idea that this makes me 'creative'. That there is some primal urge within me to make 'somethings' from 'nothings'. Not for other people to admire but for my own sanity.

Perhaps this is the true measure of creativity. Not whether someone calls themselves creative but the carry through, the action that actually creates. By this measure I am creative.

It is time to call myself so.

I have slowly budding ideas, in time I shall flesh them out and in the meanwhile I will keep making.

I guess it's well overdue that I posted a pic of my cardigan. I'm rather pleased with the way it turned out, aktuly. Lola loves knitting. Rather, she loves it when I knit because she noms on the ends of the needles as they knit and tries her hardest to destroy new balls of yarn. Anyway, here is my crappy phone camera picture of the finished thing.



The other thing I finished just today is a bag for myself. I joined the gym a week or so back and have started going after work. It's great, I get to perve on my amour as he squats and dead-lifts large masses of iron. Phwoar. *fans self* As well as getting fit and losing the weight I put on last year. Thus, I take my gym clothes to work. (oh, I was going to get more sports socks this weekend but forgot). I have been using my roll-it-up-really-small-very-light shopping bag but that isn't really great because it means I have nothing to put groceries in. Neither is it the right shape.

I modified the pattern for one of the bags I made for my etsy shop to be a little wider at the top so my runners will fit into it.

It's about the nicest gym bag I've seen. If I do say so myself!



It's reversible too. Just because I could.

Other notable happening: I have moved house thanks to the old landlord wanting to put the property up for sale - I don't think they'll get what the agents would have told them they would. It needs re-stumping urgently and the interest rate keep going up. Anyway, I like my new home better. I have an entire warehouse area type thing and a large corner to myself for spreading my crafting endeavours. It's wonderful.