Recently, I reintroduced myself to my old friend, the sewing machine. I had five very large windows and access to a room full of free fabric, so I decided that I should make some curtains. Now, I haven't actually sewn anything since I was about 13, besides a few errant buttons. I have fond elementary school memories of helping my mom with sewing projects, making a pair of pajama pants for my Dad one Christmas, and making a pillowcase in 7th grade home ec. However, sometime around 8th grade I stopped sewing. Maybe it was because I strongly, strongly disliked my 8th grade sewing teacher. Maybe it was a misguided attempt to reject stereotypically feminine gender roles. Maybe I just knew my mom wanted me to learn to sew and I was being a punk. Who knows. All I know is that even though all I've made so far is a set of really simple curtains, I am in love with this hobby. The hypnotizing clacking of the machine, the precision involved in measuring, cutting, and pressing, and the satisfaction of looking at your finished product....it's just awesome. All of it.
In honor of Easter, and spring, here is one of my most favorite poems, by one of my most favorite poets, e. e. cummings. (Yes, he really doesn't capitalize his name, I'm not just being a lazy blogger). (P.S. for best results, read this poem out loud. It's better that way)/ i thank You God for most this amazing day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes (i who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth day of life and love and wings:and of the gay great happening illimitably earth) how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any-lifted from the no of all nothing-human merely being doubt unimaginable You? (now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
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