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« December 2006 | Main | February 2007 »
If you're London and are keen to learn how to sew or craft - or connect with others who already do - I'd love to hear from you.
I'm planning a very informal, very chilled out, f2f gathering of like-minded people on Thursday, February 22 at 7 p.m. We'll meet and mingle at The Hub, 5 Torrens Street, London EC1V 1NQ. It's literally just behind Angel Tube and close to a slew of bus lines, so it's very easy to get to.
Here's a map.
Bring yourself, a few £ if you want a glass of wine (tea and coffee are free), plus some crafty ideas to inspire yourself and others for the future. I'm hoping to make the gathering a regular event, with opps to learn and teach (if you're so inclined!).
If you're interested, please let me know by email (my address is over there on the left). And of course, please help spread the word to friends, co-workers, etc. Good karma - thanks!
[Image Gelaskins]
I love beautiful things, but for me, beauty is best when it's also functional. So I'm thinking of picking up this Lollipop design Nano cover by Dodeskadan over at Gelaskins. The transparent "skin" I have on my trusty Nano is finally wearing out and I think I'd like to replace it with something more graphic.
I've also got form and function on my mind this morning as I'm trying to choose someone to help me shape the visual aspect of my brand. I'm collecting designers now.
Got any personal recommendations?
A sweet little swap package arrived yesterday - all the way from New Zealand! (Love the kiwi ribbon). Thanks so much, Helen!
Also, two New York Times pieces of potential interest to crafty, creative types. One, a spotlight on upscale crocheting; another, more meaty (though slightly simplistic in its reporting, I say, wearing my journalist hat) piece about clothing and its environmental impact.
Enjoy your Friday, all!
[Pallino Glass. Seen over at Cool Hunting.]
Apropos of nothing except the fact that London was blanketed with snow this morning:
On an unrelated note, I'm thoroughly enjoying the book, Growing a Business, by Paul Hawken. Hawken, an enterpreneur-environmentalist before it was hip to be such a thing, founded Erewhon natural foods, which he sold after seven years. In 1979, he launched Smith & Hawken, the wonderful garden tool company.
Hawken wrote the book two decades ago, but its insights and advice remain as relevant as ever. Consider this paragraph, from his "Something You Live to Do" chapter (my emphasis added):
"People intuitively understand that a good business enriches the lives of all who work within it, and enriches the lives of all of those who are touched by it. I opened my [Erewhon] store in Boston because I needed good food - pure and simple. That operation was a vital part of me. Likewise, the business you can succeed with is distinctly and utterly you and yours. It is unlike any other business in the world. Being in business is not about making money. It is a way to become who you are."
It never ceases to amaze me how many life lessons have their parallels on the yoga mat. During class this bright and wintery morning, I was working into Halasana, or plow, an asana I find extremely challenging. As a runner, I have very tight hamstrings, and feeling my neck, shoulders, and throat constricted - without being able to fully stretch my legs - is usually nearly too much too bear. I generally start to panic, which, of course, makes everything that much more difficult.
This morning, however, as I felt the usual bits of anxiety begin to surge, I was reminded of something my coach suggested to me during yesterday's session. In order to start to create a business, she said, you have to acknowledge that you simply don't know everything.
The context: I'm a perfectionist. I'm accustomed to being good at whatever I attempt. I don't mean that to sound boastful, it's more that I set high standards for myself and I work really hard to reach those self-imposed set points. And usually, as a result, I hit them squarely.
Now, however, as I embark on a new journey, I've felt intermittent crisises of confidence. Fear of failure. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of putting myself out there. Fear of not knowing all the things I'm supposed to know - and feeling like I don't have the foggiest idea how to figure them out.
But as she reminded me, I don't have to know everything. And simply acknowledging that I don't know can go a long way toward easing, then going up and over, my mental blocks.
As I struggled upside down on the mat, I thought about her words. My plow pose, I thought, doesn't have to be perfect. I can rest in the space of not knowing. Within seconds, my shoulders relaxed from my ears, and I found I could breathe more deeply. Which caused my legs to ease. Which caused my forehead to smooth and my jaw to release.
I'll admit, Halasana still wasn't somewhere I'd want to stay forever. But at least for those few moments, it felt more like a place in which I could rest. Without fear.
What makes you afraid? What steps do you take to work through those fears?
[Add: Must be something in the air - today I saw this at a blog called Flying Solo; then an e-newsletter arrived, proclaiming the self-help classic "Feel The Fear: And Do It Anyway" as Book of the Month.]
[images Design*Sponge]
I love these cycle frame designs by Devin Leggett, featured on Design*Sponge the other day. Fantastic idea.
I've long wondered why most cycle designers gravitate toward black and grey for the frames and accompanying accessories, such as paniers and seats. (Yes, yes, my bike is black).
If you're a cyclist, as I am, wouldn't a sharp hit of colour and pattern like this surely make your morning slog (esp through London's grey, rainy streets!) a heck of a lot more fun?
Did you see this article yesterday in Wired News about the rise in sewing and the internet, namely by people looking online for patterns?
It's gloriously sunny (!) here in London this morning, and strangely still. . .quite a change from the recent nearly 80 mph winds that knocked down our back garden fence and several trees in our North London neighborhood. Phew!
I just sent off some little packages to France and the UK as part of a swap put together by Flibbertygibbet (thanks for doing that!). It's my very first one - I hope everyone likes what I've sent. :)
Happy Friday, everyone!
Although I jumped into this sewing thing with both feet last Fall, I've still been yearning for a bit of hand-holding on the basics - if only so I don't have to spend so much time learning (and re-learning) on the fly.
If you're reading this in London, though, you probably know about the dearth of short-term, relatively inexpensive craft-related classes and workshops on offer in our city (a situation I hope to ...hint hint... help rectify soon).
So this morning, while I was stuck at home waiting for the washing machine repairman (and missing my office space) a workshop announcement arrived from John Lewis. I swooped onto the telephone and signed up for Sewing 1 and Sewing 2 and am now happily booked on two days of "school" in March - wheeee! Serendipity!
So tell me, if you were to sign up for a crafty class or workshop right this very minute, what kind of class or project would you pick? And if you could have anyone in the world (or perhaps just in the UK!) teach it, who would you choose?
Mason Cooley, U.S. aphorist
