Keep Creating

I do.

I have enough clothes.

It’s not about the clothes. It’s about the creation of said clothes.

It’s about researching patterns, finding the perfect one.

Then sourcing the fabric, the notions, and deciding on the whole vibe.

It’s about printing the pattern and sticking it together.

Then cutting up either an old bedsheet or the fabric I’ve found.

It’s about sewing it all together for hours, getting lost in the pattern.

Losing myself in the assembly (and sometimes being so consumed that it’s frustrating—but then you solve the step, move forward, and it starts to look more and more like the item you’re making).

And then, it’s about donning said item, where people compliment it and you say, “I made it.”

The joy.

And this joy comes from knitting, sewing, repairing, reading, my photography, or creating a new website for my work as some examples.

I enjoy immersing myself in it all.

Then I realise it’s for two reasons.

As I navigate one of the hardest seasons I can recall. And one day, I will share my story because it’s insane. But for now, I need to keep going—keep creating—before I pause to share how my work landed me in a scenario that pulled the rug from under me and made me realise the importance of always acknowledging my red flags.

Red. fucking. flags. hun.

I simply have to keep creating.

When I wake up consumed by the trauma from late last year. When I realise I probably have PTSD from the scenario.

I have to keep creating.

I journal, and I start to spiral.

So I get up again. I move forward by taking one step in front of the other.

It’s fucking cold. It’s fucking dark. It’s fucking January.

There’s no accounting for people. (I knew that, but now I really know that.)

And there’s no other choice.

My survival over the past few months has been because I have created.

Whether I created a dress.

Created a knitted jacket.

Changed and created a whole new website.

Worked out where I needed to create primarily for work.

Every day, creating something saves me.

And when my capacity drops again—when I can’t create—

I crawl into bed with my weighted blanket.

Put on an affirmational track from Insight Timer.

Pick up my needles.

And stitch even just one line of knitting.

Naomi x