I don't get inspiration from nature, from light, from moods or from colours or from any of a million things that inspire other people. I just don't. I can't think about stuff like that, I need a purpose rather than a 'whimsy'. Making people happy inspires me. If it's your birthday and I know you will really enjoy or appreciate X then I will make it for you, no matter what the learning curve or hours. But randomly ask me to create and design something that is not for a purpose, then I flail around directionless. So this is what I have been trying to make tangible for Tangled Muse. Rather than finding inspiration to sew items to randomly put in the shop, we came up with the idea that Tangled Muse is an identity, and I can sew for it (her, in my opnion). I didn't create Tangled Muse, I have merely contibuted a teeny part to the bigger whole, so really I don't get to say who or what it or she is, but frankly, this is my blog and I want to share how I see Tangled Muse, so that you can gauge a picture of who I am sewing for..
The tag line for Tangled Muse reads 'Ancient roots and modern shoots of local craft'. Given that I think of Tangled Muse in the feminine, I conjure up this image of the Sleeping Giantess in Cornwall. She has recently been put there by local artists, but the image has pretty ancient roots. So this is who I see when I think of making something for Tangled Muse (TM). She looks pretty serence, I think we would get on. I reckon she can run, wild and free - although she is perhaps too unwieldy for a bike! I think she enjoys nature, celebrates the seasons and probably does Yoga regularly. So this is MY interpretation of TM. I apologise profusely to Lucy, Dave and Holly if this really isn't how you see TM, but I really am just getting my own inspiration across. So with this image of TM in my head, I had a go at some lavender bags, and actually, I'm pretty happy with them.
So there we go, I am on a sewing roll. I made a fab little turquoise heart yesterday but I forgot to take a pic before I sent it off to the land of stock, so you will have to wait til it appears in the shop. I have many more little trinkets up my sleeve now that I know who I'm making for.
In the midst of the ramble I wrote and then didn't post, and because you know I can't blog without talking about it, here are my thoughts on sporting inspiration:
I started cycling because Paul started cycling and I sure as hell wasn't going to get left on the sofa. The Thornhill Loop as we call it, doesn't leave the estate and when I first started cycling I couldn't mange 1 loop. 1 loop is just under 3 miles. 10 mins on my bike and I would stomp home crying with frustration, sweating, out of breath, full of can'ts and won'ts. How I hated cycling. Seriously. It was this thing that had taken Paul outside and given him a sense of purpose and I just didn't understand it. So I kept doing it, determined to understand my nemesis, to stick at it and not get left on the sofa. I dreaded it, hated doing it and we all know the saga.. but somewhere I got fitter, quicker and better and over a period of time I realised that I didn't hate it anymore. I now openly, smugly, happily admit that I LOVE CYCLING. I just do. All of it. Everything about it. Even the lycra damn it. After the Thornhill loop became a bit samey, a bit boring, I started to stretch my legs on a 9.5 mile loop out through hedge end. We call this loop 'the little loop' these days - it certainly wasn't in the beginning! Anyway, the little loop has become my time trial loop. The loop I do when I don't have a lot of time and I want to stretch my bike legs and see how fast I can go. Today I did the loop averaging 15.2mph. A new personal best. So happy with that this morning.
Well, a strange thing is starting to happen with running too. Paul and I noticed it yesterday, and it was only as I wrote it down in a draft text to Lucy that I realised the truth of it. I don't hate running anymore. More than that though, I feel quite comfortable with it. I can see the light at the end of the cycling tunnel luring me down the running tunnel. It doesn’t seem all bad.
If I started cycling for Paul, then I started running for Lucy. Sadly that is the truth of it. At no point was I doing it for me. I would happily still have been sat on the sofa. But the fitter, leaner, quicker I get, the more I realise that now I do it for myself. These days I am starting to inspire myself, for myself and it feels pretty good.