I've been feeling disjointed and aimless. My cup was empty, in spite of doing things I loved - reading good books, writing poetry, going to open mics, playing board games with family and seeing friends.

I didn't know what was missing. I didn't even know something was missing. I was just an ungrateful bear with a sore head, stomping around the house and driving my family nuts. That all changed a couple of weeks ago when Skye, the beautiful Skye, brought along flowers and paper and clay to a nature group my girls were attending.

It was wonderful. We sat on the grass in the shade of a majestic gum tree near the creek, We used to petals and leaves to draw on paper. Cornflowers, dandelions, gum leaves and grass stems. The colour on the page didn't always match the colour of the petal. It was a beautiful surprise every time. As we were drawing a friendly magpie came to say hello and check out what we were making.

After we had finished our drawings, Skye brought out the clay. There is something magical about clay. The way those wet lumps of earth are cold and soft and hard and rough and smooth in your hands. The way you can warm them and shape them and stretch them and bend them and mould them. The way the clay asks nothing and gives everything. The way your mind can wander while your hands explore texture and surface and shape.

I've been so busy over the last couple of months, there hasn't been time to craft. To make things with my hands. To create what I need. Instead I'd been caught up in Christmas consumerism. Yup, that's right. The craft queen wasn't doing any craft for Christmas. She didn't have any inspiration or ideas. Everything had already been done (beeswax candles, peppermint lip balm, hand made cards, aprons, tea towels, wrapping paper, hand bound books) and there was nothing new and exciting to make, no new craft to learn. 

But now, oh now. There is a whole new world of petals and paper to explore. Thank you Skye!