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I find I am drawn to people that create. From scratch. No cake mixes here. They sew, or knit, or paint, or cook, or garden. Why is that? I think it is about the sense of creating something with our hands and our brain, albeit it "right brained". These type of folks feel the sense of completion when finishing a project, or even the process of finishing the project, as we must admit, not all projects are completed. But, hey, it does feel good to say, "I made that." I think we become these creative types at an early age. We dabble in some productive venture, it fills our soul and we long for more.
We jump in with at the next big idea. grab the ingredients and start to create! We fill that colorless void that exists in that big outside world full of trains and planes and computers and things that go bang in the night. Plant it, paint it, cook it, compose it, collage it, sew it, knit it, hook it, dye it, draw it, write it, solder it, or string it. Take something and make it into something else, from scratch.
I am reminded of those that came before me. My great-grandmother was a hooker. Rugs, chair seats, coasters and more. I remember visiting, she lived with my grandmother, there wasn't just one or two hooked rugs, there were dozens. My grandmother was an avid knitter and a cook. She had a black notebook filled with her hand written and hand typed knitting patterns. A box full of tried and true recipes, stained over time. She loved to make things for every baby that was born. As for cooking, all her life she baked seven loaves of bread, from scratch each week. She had a large old bucket bread mixer that she added five pound of flour, milk, sugar and yeast too, and cranked till her arm was numb, left over night, and in the morning, voila, it had risen and loaves were readied and into the oven. Carrot marmalade and a loaf of Victorian Milk Bread every year at Christmas for all.
My mother was a sewer and a re-decorator on steroids. We moved, for no apparent reason about every four years. As I look back on it, I think she had finished the painting and the wall-papering and the moving furniture around. She was ready for another house to decorate. One of my earliest memories was of me sitting on the top of the pattern cabinet while she flipped through pattern books at the speed of lightening. She made dresses and bonnets and sunsuits. She made my prom dress, a black background calico with tiny yellow, green and pink rosebud blossoms all over it. Added to that was the white pin-tucked pinafore. My prom pictures were taken with my horse, The rest of the girls dresses? Gunne Sax.
So, I guess it is natural that most of my life I have made my living with my hands. First business, a fabric store with a partner, called The Needle and I. We made stenciled curtains and boiled wool embroidered jackets to help make ends meet. Next up, sewing pieced jackets and selling them at craft fairs for almost twenty years. Now I find myself back at the beginning as the proud owner of On Board Fabrics. Creating, from scratch. I like that. Oh, yes, I like to cook, too.