​Since the new year, I've been a bit of a creative rut. Far fewer knots, not much weaving, not much painting. (I had to hit "pause" for some freelance production work during that chunk of that time which was challenging to bounce back from, but yes. Rut. Creative dry spell.) 

What's starting to pull me out is revisiting the practice of random weave, which I learned last fall (was it fall?) from fiber artist Ann Coddington in a weekend workshop at Praxis Fiber Workshop in Cleveland. (When I saw that Ann was teaching a two-day workshop not-so-far away from me, I was so thrilled. It was an incredible opportunity to learn from an artist whose work I've admired from afar! And to the people of the Cleveland area: Praxis is a gift. A gift. That is all.)

Anyway, back to today. Earlier this year, I was lucky enough to be part of a fiber/textile "stuff swap" at a Fiber Club* gathering in Detroit and I wound up with a BIG stash of someone's unwanted half-round reed. What a GIFT. It was someone else's trash but it was MY TREASURE. I couldn't believe no one else wanted it! I could not believe my luck. (I was also quite pleased that everything I brought to swap had been quickly absorbed into the crowd - everything was taken for various and sundry other projects. What a wonderful trade!)

I can be so precious with materials. I never want to waste the good stuff on play or experimentation. I suppose this is a bit of a perfectionist streak in me (is that the right word? I don't think of myself as a perfectionist) - if I use new materials, or costly materials, on a new project or idea and it doesn't turn out *just right*, I will feel not only feel a failure, I will feel wasteful and regretful. So having a big pile of free-to-me, very-usable-but-not-perfect reed was magnificent. Yes. YES! 

I could allow myself to practice. Practice and PLAY! This is something I never allow myself to do - it can feel risky, potentially wasteful. Nevermind the potential wins of learning, going somewhere creatively, taking the next step.

Now I just wanted to play and start to explore, little by little. Baby steps. First, a small bean, then a bigger bean. Then a GIANT bean. ANOTHER bean. Not feeling guilty bean. I even - gasp! - took apart a bean and started over bean! More to come beans. Joyful beans. Mathematical beans. [Thinking about life beans because it's all just a goddamn hill of beans.] How many beans is too many beans? I'm willing to find out!