My very first creation that I remember.
I was a tiny girl. I remember sitting in my mothers sewing room looking at scraps of material and buttons. I loved the boxes and boxes of things. She was busy sewing and I was sitting on the floor with the sun streaming in one Autumn day. My little fingers going over all the lace and scraps made me happy. I remember that joy. That is the very first time I can remember that I needed to create something.
There was an old fabric and trimming store she took me to. More boxes and treasure to comb over. She would be there for what seemed like hours and I would be left to wander in the trimmings. It was fun. There was some sort of rail that I can remember swinging on. I was probably 3 or 4 but not much older. I can still see that old building in my mind and the way it smelled. I had button urgings. My little fingers wanted to make something, and I remember that yearning very distinctly.
When finally unleashed as an older child, I gathered a small scrap of fleece and a toilet tube. I made my very first craft. A sheep. Nobody taught me how. I remember being taught how to thread and knot a needle, but the rest was up to me. I made this tiny stuffed sheep out of a toilet tube. I saved that craft. To me it is the most precious craft. It is from my childhood. All good things happened in my childhood. I had a lovely time creating.
As the years advanced to the ripe age of seven I learned how to chain crotchet from my grandmothers. I was thrilled with this skill. I made tiny string crocheted dresses for itty bity creatures that I made out of fallen pussy willows. I thought they looked like mice. So mice needed dresses right? Oh, how I loved making minuscule creatures with scraps and do dads. I still remember that feeling of accomplishment and happiness when I completed a tiny “mouse” dress. I moved on to barbie’s crochet dresses in winter. The pussy willows were gone.
Perhaps my greatest love was sculpting. I remember trying to carve a doll out of a bar of soap. I was frustrated. It kept breaking and I kept using more ivory soap until I had a huge pile of soap flakes. Not defeated by this I added a tiny bit of water and made a clay like substance and molded tiny legs. My fervor grew for this. Soon I was sculpting tiny soap dolls. I remember my grandparents were amazed and my grandpa told me to make a sculpture for the Alpine days fair. He was a wood crafter and made me a tiny block for my sculptures to sit on. We entered the fair together that year. I was 8. I took sweepstakes in my category with my tiny soap sculpture. I will never ever forget my grandpas look of utter astonishment and pride for me.
So, it began and my path was set. I LOVED to make things. I loved to create. I loved to see the smiles on people’s faces when I gave them one of my creations. To this day that joy has never ended for me.