The Creative Well

Election Day and I intend to vote. I hope you will too, no matter if you vote differently. The point is to exercise your right to have a say in our future.

On the home front, cider-making has wrapped up for 2022, and what a year it was! Nearly nineteen gallons frozen in half gallon containers and plenty already consumed. We managed four presses and each press tastes different as the varietal mix of apples changed and they became sweeter. Tons of work, but oh so worth it.

I realized sometime this past summer that I was burning out on the writing business and growing grumpy. It was time to do something about it before my husband suffered from my foul moods. I have many creative outlets that I’d let slide and it was time to start picking them back up.

As a fabric artist, I have a studio filled with fabrics and other raw materials that I’ve collected over decades. I decided to start with knitting and whittle down my collection of wool yarns.. My grandmother was a world class knitter, crocheter, tatter. My mother was also a prolific knitter, providing me and my siblings with sweaters, hats, and mittens. One of my sisters has become an expert knitter, turning out incredibly beautiful pieces. My hat is off to her–it took countless hours clacking two needles together to get there.

I am not as skilled as the other women in my family, but knitting is relaxing to me, and something I can do while watching or listening to educational videos, podcasts, or movies. (I also confess an addiction to certain cooking shows.) Since summer, I have produced two sweaters, a hat, mittens, and am currently working on leg warmers. My supply of wool yarn is slowly morphing into a growing pile of wearable items, a very satisfying sight.

Reading, writing, and all things connected with the writing business has become a pleasure again and I am so grateful that I figured out the problem. The creative well needs refilling on a regular basis. I accept that I will never be an author who grinds out 10,000 words a day or a book a month. There are too many other things I enjoy doing and life is short.

I am, however, a writer who sits with her laptop daily and tells herself stories. I see now that I was putting too much pressure on myself. After eight years my creative brain rebelled and cut off the flow until I woke up to the fact that there are many layers to the complex individual known as Charley Marsh–and they all need tending.

We are all many-layered, complex beings. It’s what makes humans so fascinating and so much fun to write about.