Just unpacked a box from Kathmandu of the most fabulous tight, stringy, hard, handspun balls of hemp. 8 wonderful kilos of exactly what I was looking for. A tough thread of a rich, undulating, natural colour – love it! The smell ‐ simultaneously a fresh deep hay barn and Nepal. A few years ago, coming back from leading a trek in Bhutan, I came across a small shop selling bags that I thought were made from nettle fibre (allo).
A conversation yesterday made me realise that it never ends. It is forever…always…ongoing.
There is no clear the desk, switch out the light, close the door, finish.
No ‘tick the box’ done. Like water, like a river ‐ creativity is fluid, sort of joined up ‐ continuous. No actual beginning, no actual end. It just keeps coming – flowing (or not!) unbidden. Trickling sometimes… even smelly stagnant…even dried up (now we don’t want that do we)…until the next impromptu shower of stimulus has you bobbing along quite nicely again.