Where does inspiration come from?

I’m sure it’s different for everyone, but for me its everywhere or I should say anywhere. My magnolia in the springtime, the shadows on the bottom of the pool, the beautiful old woman in the coffee shop, birds.  Patterns, colors, shapes, textures…  Before I knit, I had no way to express my inspiration.  I wonder, who to thank.



My mother retired from a job in retail when she was in her sixties.  Her first career, before us, was as a milner in NYC. I inherited her wooden head, a prized possession of mine.  She worked at a yarn store for a bit before moving into a 55+ community where she spent the rest of her days dancing, playing tennis  and mahjong, and generally enjoying her friends and family.  I wonder if her life without us to worry about would have led her down a different path.

My mom was creative where she could be.  She was a great cook and baker. She sewed and knit all the time, but mostly to clothe us or repair our favorite things.  And I wonder, if we had showed interest, if she would have had the time to teach us her crafts.  I wonder if her creations before us were inspired.  If she missed her calling.  I know to me she would have said she wouldn’t have done it any other way.

But I will always wonder where this comes from. This passion in me that arrived right after she left.  Before I could show her.

When I design my head hurts.  It begins like a puzzle.  I turn the pieces over and over, each a question.   I don’t always begin with a border, sometimes I start from the center and work my way out.  One question leads to another, an answer leads to another question and another, and my brain just plain overheats.  And so I nap.  And when I fall asleep with a question looming, she answers it.

Written by franny29

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