Sheep's Wool

You’ve probably noticed this letter is a day late. I had my Driving Theory test yesterday and didn’t have brain space for anything else. Excitingly I passed and so am one step closer to my van dream.

I had a tough week last week, my mind whirling and my emotions all over the place. It wasn’t any one thing, nothing specific I could point to or fix, it was simply one of those weeks. The war in Ukraine, fear, The Seagrass Walk needing answers I didn’t have, diesel prices and my van dream, floods in Australia, uncertainty. I wasn’t sure about sharing this with you all, but in the end, I decided that bad weeks are part of my the journey I’ve promised to share with you all.

Despite everything it was a productive week: I had a good meting about a local seagrass meadow, had a few good email exchanges, came up with solutions to questions, and learnt about building the vans electrical system. But it was a struggle, one of those times in my life as an artist where each self-determined step feels like I am wading through something thick and impossible.

During times like this I have found the best thing approach is to keep trying different things. Eventually something sticks and I can find my way out of the emotional fog. Sometimes that something is work related, sometimes it’s knitting or baking, sometimes it’s a movie marathon and a blanket. It always includes talking and sometimes involves crying. Last week it was a mixture of all of it. Thankfully I have people to talk to, and cats to cry with (there are people as well obviously but the cats are rather forceful huggers when I cry). I also have enough projects going on that I can bounce between them, chipping away at small tasks. Productivity helps. So does beauty and a camera in hand.

A visit to the ancient remains of a Celtic Chapel carved out a few hours suffused with joy.

Walking on beaches until I found possible answers to the questions piling up made the coming weeks feel possible.

Reading about electrical systems and solar panels until I began to understand them felt like an active re-choosing of my dream in the face of fragility.

Tearing apart gorgeous smelling sheep’s wool insulation and starting the process of filling every nook and cranny in the van felt like medicine.

A warm home, one made warm by something natural, brilliant, breathable, and healthy is a wonder. Filling the van’s crevices, poking wool into them, crafting my future warmth it with my own hands somehow changed things. After a week stuck inside the circles of my own mind, the creation of future warmth and comfort is exactly what I needed.

I’m looking forward to sharing the results with you all next Monday.