In Limbo

Limbo. The word sums up so many aspects of my life right now.

Most notably, our house is still for sale and we cannot move until it sells. I’m applying for jobs but cannot supply a definite available start date. I don’t even know whether I should go ahead and book my next haircut. How much longer will we be here? It’s extra frustrating to repeatedly hear stories of houses that are selling within days of going on the market — always in a different market or at a different price point. This week, in my quest to feel like I’m doing something useful to move things along, I scrubbed down the mailbox. It doesn’t seem to have made an impact.

I’ve knit more of my entrelac scarf. While I must admit that I’ve been falling asleep with my knitting in my hands more than I’ve been knitting — no mean feat considering how much coffee I’ve been consuming — I’ve made it through probably three-quarters of the last skein of yarn. It's currently 39 inches long before blocking, and I still haven’t decided if I should turn the scarf into a cowl. I need to wait and see how far that last quarter of a skein will go, but I’m beginning to think the piece may end up being a good length for a scarf after all.

I’ve also made progress on the two books that I started reading last week, but have not yet finished either book. I did come across a line I liked from “In the Company of Women: Inspiration and Advice from over 100 Makers, Artists and Entrepreneurs” by Grace Bonney. The quote is from Hopie Stockman:

“No one can rip off authenticity.”

I think it’s an excellent point for artists to remember. Someone might be able to copy some aspect of what we do, but it won’t be the same because it will be missing that infusion of self that makes it ours. Creating from a place of inspiration and emotion is going to produce a different result than going through the motions to replicate someone else’s idea.

And where do those authentic, creative ideas come from? Experiencing life — yes, even the periods of limbo.