Evidence

A lot of what I write here is evidence.  Evidence of the pieces of my everyday that are still madly clinging to me, whipped and bedraggled as they are, as life whistles by.

So here is a piece of evidence that I still make things.  I took some time out a while ago to sew something not so whipped and bedraggled.  More homey and fancy-pants new-like.  Some of my favourite fabrics from the stash and my fancy new rotary cutter and mat, and ta-da!  New pillow covers, a couple of lap blankets, and we're good to go!

By the way: homey stuff by me; my favourite painting by my brother.  Excellent pairing :)

Second by the way: not really "Ta-da!"; more like several hours over several days including more than one period of time holding my breath, sewing machine on stand-by, frozen like a deer in headlights in my basement studio as I hear Zinadine's little feet nonchalantly wandering on the main floor above me and him sing-song calling "Maamaa!" in that "I have lots of things to play with, and I'm quite happy, and my Dad and Safiya are right there but really I can think of nothing better than to track down my Mama....I wonder where she is?" Yeah. More like that.