three years ago today i moved out of the huge and beautiful apartment that i shared with my ex - staying in a tiny one room cabin on a friend's property for a few weeks until my new place was vacant. i had the two cats with me and almost all of my belongings were in a storage unit.
one year ago today i was less than a month from moving out of my tiny one room apartment and at the two month countdown to moving across the country - gearing up to dogsit/couchsurf/stay with my parents until the morning i drove off.
there's less than 8 weeks until i go back to maine for a few days.
it will have been a year.
in visiting during september, i will have accepted another year ahead for myself without family & friends at the holidays. i will have accepted another year ahead for myself of trying to make ends meet and figure it out on my own. i know that by the time september hits, i'm going to be feeling really emotional about what the past year has really meant.
i had a pretty shitty day a couple of days ago. i reached out to any friend that i thought might listen, because all i wanted was comfort. i'd been sick for a few days already with a nasty head/chest cold, i hadn't left the house, i hadn't showered, and my brain/heart started to play all kinds of mean tricks on me. a moment of weakness in an otherwise strong existence sometimes feels like the world is caving in on you. my soul sister told me, "you ARE tough, but maybe you don't have to be tough ALL the time."
today i woke up with absolutely no voice. my housemate, who came back from her last trip of the summer yesterday, saw me this morning and said, "well, you look better." when i tried to tell her i'm still feeling crappy, nothing came out. no words, just a squeak. i put myself back to bed with a cup of tea and my laptop and am forcing myself to rest today. i'm bad at being lazy - even the past few days while i haven't felt well, i was sewing up a project. i don't like to admit defeat, clearly.
yesterday morning i couldn't stand it anymore, so i pulled myself out of bed greasy hair and all and drove myself twenty minutes up the hill to a lake. i sat there for a couple of hours in the early morning sunshine before the crowds showed up, listened to one of my favorite albums from almost ten years ago, and got some fresh air. it had been a few months since i'd visited that spot, but each time i go i'm always so pleasantly surprised by the thick woods and the view. it almost looks like new england. almost.
for a woman who is so deeply ingrained in and connected to the desert, recently i've been feeling a pull from the woods and mountains. i don't know if the initial newness and novelty of the desert is wearing off, and closing in on the one year mark my native landscape is trying to call me home... maybe its because the arizona desert isn't really the one i'm in love with, its the joshua tree desert - and nothing else compares. maybe i find peace in both of these landscapes, just at different times and for different reasons. maybe i just am not sure where i'm supposed to be. maybe i am starting to get weary of being alone, and a need for change/wanderlust is the only thing that curbs that feeling.
i got my etsy shop up and running again this weekend, which was something i could do from bed. there is nothing more scary and annoying than trying to price your work. especially within a platform where everyone else who is selling within your medium is totally underselling themselves. they're charging for a finished project what would barely cover my supplies. so, i tried to compromise and keep my prices reasonable while still placing value on them. at least as much as i could for now. when you're charging ite3 or 4 times more than everyone else, its a little bit nerve wracking.
...even when you're confident your work is worth it. by the time i plan/design a unique project, choose/acquire fabrics, cut and sew up the fabrics, make the back, sandwich/baste it up, quilt it, bind it, photograph it, and write up a listing for it - that is a huge process that feels a little impossible to put a real price on.
it does feel good to get my items back out there on the market though, it had been about four years since i've sold that way - hard to believe anything i'd sold in the past four years was custom work only (except for that selling spree i went on just before i moved).
i am selling some quilts that have been around for a while. i've recognized that their emotional value to me has worn off, and right now they've just become things i carry around. the good thing about being a quilter is that i can ALWAYS replicate a project later on. as it goes right now, my need to sell and bring in income outweighs my need to hold on to these projects. in a way that bums me out, but in a way i know that its a) necessary, b) responsible, and c) no big deal. at the rate i'm going, i'm putting together a new project every couple of weeks, so i'm hoping to continue the forward momentum. if items start to sell, i'll be pleased. if they don't, i'll just keep making more. if nothing sells, i know what everyone is getting for christmas this year...