Feeling my way

Life has been a rollercoaster lately.

One thing I've really enjoyed of late is being able to get out and just take pictures for fun -- the ones flanking this paragraph are from a local Flickrmeet -- and it was just wonderful to be able to go, take pictures, talk about taking pictures, and have a few laughs with people I know and who wouldn't freak out if (and especially, when) I'd break down and lose it.



All I had really been taking pictures of lately was the installations for my Fish Creek Environmental Learning Centre show...



... and fulfill my commitment to install "spring" (the upper left picture in the montage), demonstrate how I spun the yarn on my drop spindle, and talk to the school groups that visit.



But that doesn't mean life has been all sweetness and light. I'm still learning to pace myself, and found out the hard way that I can't do a lot of public interaction before dissolving into a babbling puddle.

That being said, it was useful, at some level, to push the emotional envelope, and while I felt like I descended back down a long, slippery slope, it really only lasted 48 hours.

Tomorrow is another milestone: it's D.'s birthday. The tradition in our home is that the birthday person gets whatever they want for dinner, and I decided that I could really only deal with that tonight. Leftover BBQ lamb in fresh wholewheat pitas, homemade tzaziki, and Grower's Extra Dry Apple cider is a pretty tasty dinner. (Didn't do Greek Festival last weekend, though: it was our usual birthday celebration adventure.)

If I can watch any part our favourite movie on DVD tomorrow night, it will be a real accomplishment: I actually listened to part of the music soundtrack last night, which I wasn't initially sure was such a great idea, but it's helped the healing process.

Although I'd be lying if I said that I don't still feel about as skittish and fragile as this young mule deer doe, who was having a lovely time by the truck when I left Fish Creek yesterday.

Conditional Sentences

The Government of Canada says that (D)uring a conditional sentence, the offender is supervised and must follow the rules set by the judge or risk going to prison.

There are days in the last three months -- and it's been that long since I've been alone -- that I feel that my overwhelming emotions may have offended some, and that I've definitely needed supervision.

But I am doing better. Mostly. And I'm finally starting to go out and be a bit more social, which is a major shift.

Being productive instead of paralyzed is a refreshing change, at least most days, although since the pendulum of emotions has swung to the antithesis of numb, I sometimes wonder if it's an improvement.

In one of those wonderful dual meanings, a "conditional sentence" can also refer to at least six options, and I've rung every change from past real through past unreal, present real, present unreal, future real, and my personal choice future unreal.

I think it became my least favourite, however, the day I rediscovered a normal range of human emotions, and let them run wilder than should be legal: it's amazing what tricks the human mind can play on its owner....



My time at EPCOR was great, even with the rainy weather of last week and the overwhelming number of children in the building,

(Someone asked me "don't you like children?" Sure I do: boiled, fried, with a cream and Dijon mustard sauce, or lemon and capers....)

and I couldn't help but get emotional when I went in two days ago to bundle up the most improbable piece of knitting I've made, at least this year. And once I get the studio cleaned up so I have a place to string it up to dry, I'll get it washed and measured properly. Until then, I'm guessing that it's closer to 30 meters than I originally thought.



If anything has cheered me up lately, it's been the growing number of visitors to the blog (I guess it helps when I post something, right?) and the number of knitting-related websites that picked up the story in Calgary Herald, from the knitting section of About.com, KnitIdeas, and especially Amy Singer's Knitty.



The most surprising place I've discovered some of my other installation work was this piece on Art Condos, a blog in Toronto, with one of my first cone cosy installations. Is that cool or what?



Still not sure what is going to happen next in my life -- at least, after the ASA Forest Show finishes its run at the Leighton Centre, my solo photography show of knitted seasonal installations closes at the Fish Creek Environmental Learning Centre (that's the "spring" part of the show above, before I installed and photographed them), and Stampede, but I'm cranking out job applications and residency proposals, so someone's bound to want me somewhere.

At least, that's Plan A.

There's also a Plan B, since I'm obsessive that way, which is good news: not so long ago, I didn't have either.