Following hot on the heels of the last post, I just wanted to update y’all who don’t see my elsewhereblogs on this:

Tonight, I got rid of most of what I own, arts-and-crafts-wise.  Yarn.  Books.  Fiber.  Tools.  Art supplies.  Fabric.  Sniffies.  Old habits and old interests.  Stuff that I’ve held onto through at least five moves, in some cases, more than seven.  (Stuff that’s literally travelled from Nebraska to Oregon to California to Washington to Nebraska again and came to rest in Iowa.  It’s insane, really.)

I still have a long way to go before I can say I’ve let go of everything but the necessary or the beautiful.

But I’m one step closer.  One great big giant step the size of the Grand Canyon.

I’m just so *ready* now, where I wasn’t before.

It’s a little scary — one would think I’d have grown up Depression-Era for the kind of stockpiling I was tending toward — but not anxious, really.  Excited.  Relieved.  Able to breathe.

I’m going to be putting some things on Etsy that I found — handmade plush things and journals and handspun yarns and probably a lot of original artwork.  I’ll keep you informed about where those things are, in case you’re interested.

With the ball rolling, though, I’m looking forward to finally making it to the places I want to be.

And *who* I want to be.

I was putting off writing this, thinking that I’d get some pictures for y’all to go along with all the words that are swirling around in my skull.   The Iowa weather, however, had other plans for today, and we’ve been getting little balls of ice falling from the sky by the bucketful, and no light of which to speak.

*sigh*

Mother Nature wins again.  She often does out thisaway.

So settle back for a pictureless journey with me.  My brain’s on overdrive, so it’s likely to be long and kinda rambly (as are most of my entries), but I promise, it’s worth it.  At least it’s worth it to me.  (And I might try to find a picture or two anyway, just to spite Ma.)

This past weekend has been one of the most productive of my life.  And not because of the sheer amount of stuff I’ve created (which isn’t really all THAT impressive — a dozen or so scents, all the descriptions, a new plan on how to do some things), but because I had a few of those moments where I could sit back and just *observe* my thoughts, watch them swirl around like the wriggly things they are, morphing and changing and getting clearer  and more colorful as they’re watched.

When I’m creating anything, I go into a kind of trance state.  Which sounds far more impressive than it really is, I’m sure.  It’s Flow — that state of creation where the conscious mind shuts off, the critical voice is silenced and the self is removed, and all that’s left is the You that’s in there in the center and whatever it is on which you’re working.  Ideas flow through, your hands move of their own accord, and you seem to know what to do by intuition alone.

I love that state.  I *need* that state to feel like I’m whole.  When I can’t touch that state for any length of time, part of me shuts down, and I get nervous and self-conscious, like some kind of imaginary wart’s appearing on my forehead that talks to people when I’m not looking.  OH HI THERE, I’M ELIZA’S IDEAS THAT SHE’S NOT ACKNOWLEDGING.  PAY NO MIND TO THE ELEPHANT ON HER FOREHEAD.

(Wouldn’t you just love a picture of that here?  Stupid weather.)

For the past six weeks or so, I’ve been utterly blocked.  I’ve been calling it in when I sit down to the table to think up some new scent or design some new thing or draw some new journal entry.  I’ve shown up to the page, so to speak, but the Flow hasn’t been there.  I blame a lot of that on stress (there are a lot of things going on behind the scenes here at Chez Violet, some good, some scary), and on a sense that something new was coming around the bend.

I’m one of those people, mind you, who needs to know how things are going to turn out.  I’ve been known (she says shame-facedly) to flip to the back of a novel to make sure it’s not going to end badly, and movies with no real conclusion piss me off.  I’m not good at situations where I’m not in control to some extent, even if that’s just the control over how I react to it all.  And with this sense that something big was coming, but no idea what it was or how I was going to deal with it all?

Yeah, frozen.  Like Han Solo in the Carbonite.

(yes, that waves my Geek Flag high and proud.  Hush.)

I know what it is now, that change that was a’comin’.  I still don’t know how it’s all going to play out, or even what it’s safe to hope for at this point.  But just knowing that much, that little bit, was enough to unlock things for me this past weekend.  I was reading a passage in a book of quotes, and the Inspiration struck.  My eyes glazed over, and my brain turned off, and the motions were in…well…motion before I could even blink the glaze away.

Twelve new scents, two new series beginnings, a metric TON of ideas, and a whole lot of decisions and clarity later, the day closed at 4 a.m., talking deeply with people I adore.

This, my friends and blogbuds, was a Very Good Day.

* * *

In the days since (there have only been two), the creative dam’s breaking has done a whole lot for my brain.  Flow’s there again — I can feel her behind my eyes when I see a color I love, or read something inspiring.  And the energy’s back, in droves, bringing along with it a whole lot of unforseen realizations.

For example, I started cleaning out the physical space I’m in again.  I’m a stockpiler of things that represent potential to me (yarn, or books, or office supplies, or magazines…that kind of thing.), and it was to the point where all my Potential was becoming a potential fire hazard.

In doing so, I found that I have THE LARGEST COLLECTION OF SEATTLE CRAP EVER.  Which isn’t all that surprising, given that I’ve been holding onto the thought of going home with a vice-like kung-fu grip, despite the fact that I’m here.  I realized as I was throwing away used bus transfers today (USED BUS TRANSFERS, PEOPLE…) that in doing so, in holding on and clenching down so rigidly against the reality of *today*, which, of course, is Iowa…I’ve been cutting myself off from a whole lot of things.  Six years ago, I hit the “pause” button on my life while I came out here for a visit, and forgot that the CD was still spinning in the player.

As a result, I haven’t let anything touch me.  Not really.  Here and there, things got through, of course.  But by pining for this situation that, clearly, I don’t have right now and won’t have for the forseeable future for a whole lot of reasons (not the least of which is that I just *can’t* go back while things are in such full-swing here), I’ve stuck myself in this time capsule that’s rigid and unyielding, and when life’s offered opportunities to me, I’ve only gone after them with half a heart, because the other half is somewhere near Mt. Rainier, whining that it’s not 2002 anymore.

I am *profoundly* grateful for my life and my experiences.  I wouldn’t be who I am right now if I didn’t have them.  And looking forward, I know that my life only gets better from here, even if there are wrinkles and strange twists and turns involved.

But I know now that I need to let go of an outcome.  Stop pausing that CD, so to speak, and let the music play on, even if it’s not the song I was expecting or hoping for.

Seattle will be there.  My mountains will stand, no matter where I am or who I’m with.

It’s time to let go of all the past and move forward with an open mind and an open heart, and let my life Flow as much as my creation does.

It’s not an easy lesson, and certainly not a quick one for me.  But I get it now.  I get it, and I’m ready to start shedding the stuff that held me in place for this long.

The wind just keeps on blowing.

I keep taking all these blog breaks without really meaning to.  It’s not like I’m not busy, it’s not like I don’t have a metric TON of stuff to talk about, and I have the time, really.

I think I just get blocked every now and again when it comes to the written word.  There’s this kind of wall somewhere in my brain and all the words get all backed up behind it, like water behind a dam.

Of course, then it breaks, and OMG I’M SO SORRY IN ADVANCE for all the babble.  Just sayin’.

So what *have* I been up to?

Still making with the soap, obviously.  I should be, by now, the CLEANEST PERSON ON THE PLANET.  (Which isn’t always true — I’m usually covered in oil and dye and dogfur and Crazy.)  Instead, I keep putting them up on the shop so OTHER people can be all squeaky.

These up here are Hot Process, which is something relatively new to me.   It’s the same thing as my regular cold-process, honestly — the only difference is that you cook the oil and lye mix in a crock pot or double-boilerthing for an hour or so, and it accelerates the saponification process (turning the oil into soap and getting rid of the lye) so much that by the time you spoon the glop into the molds, it’s SAFE TO USE.  I could, for all intents and purposes, take the hot soap glop and rub it ALL OVER ME without ANY fear of burning myself from the lye.

Not that I wouldn’t be one giant blister from the hot soap glop, mind you, but it wouldn’t be a lye burn, at least.  :)

I’ve got two shelves sitting aside right now, waiting for me to get labels on them and letting the fragrance in them settle a bit.  (big shelves, too.  Huge.  Lotsa soap.)

Best of all, Magical Omaha wants to wholesale all the Happy Housewife stuff now, which is a giant squeemoment for me.  For anyone who isn’t into the Sniffage, MO is one of those places that has only the best stuff, and gets a LOT of traffic, both in-store here in Omaha, and online.  All the sniffie-girls order from MO, so it’s a HUGE customer base.  I’ve been thrilled for weeks over this.  It’s GIANT for me.  GIANT.

I’ve also been knitting a bit during my radio silence.  The February Lady Sweater (of which no pictures exist yet) has a full body now.  Working on the arms.  Not sure how it’s going to look on me yet, but I really love the yarn (malabrigo, duh), so it’s been fun to work on.  Soft and squishy, just how I like it.

It’s all part of that big Finish Something push that I’ve been on, I think.  I’m going through something — I’m not sure how to describe it, really.  There’s a change a’coming on the horizon and I’m not sure what’s down that particular tightrope.  (says the girl of mixed-metaphors.)  So I’m just standing at the end of it with my arms open wide and waiting to see what happens.

I’m open to change.

Wow….this has been fully unfocused, hasn’t it?  Catch-up posts always are, I suppose.  There’s so much ground to cover that I can’t get all in-depth the way I like to be.

Maybe now that the word-dam’s broken a little, I can trickle out some better puddles for  y’all.

(Did I mention it’s supposed to freakin’ SNOW tonight in Iowa?  SNOW.  As I read the news earlier, it was almost seventy degrees outside, and I balked, but now?  Temps are dropping like a stone and the skies are getting black, and the rain’s starting to fall.  I’m not doubting it as much now.  Hooboy.)

Okay.  Wordpuddles.  I’ll work on some puddles this week.  Promise.

Thanks for being here, y’all.