When I was a little girl, I spent a lot of time watching television- as did many of my generation. I spent a lot of time alone, and lived in a neighborhood that was, at times, a bit sketchy. After school, there was nothing I liked better than making myself a snack- usually a yogurt with Grapenuts, or toast with peanut butter and honey- and sit down in front of the TV with the old blue quilt wrapped around my shoulders. I watched the usual cartoons, the after school specials, and older shows like I Love Lucy, and also a lot of commercials. At the time, advertising agencies were starting to target people like me- the latch-key kid demographic- and we were sitting ducks.
One day, a commercial for a toy shaped like an inch worm came on and I thought it was so cute. But it was also plastic. I remember thinking about the different ways I could make an inch worm toy of my own- a toy without plastic- a toy of my own creation. This was what I really wanted: the ability to create my own toy and that is something I’ve carried with me ever since. The projects I’m asked to do that make me the happiest are always toys, particularly those with faces, because there is always that sense that I’m breathing life into this little object, and that “life” is something like magic for a child (or adult) who plays with the toy.
And so, there is joy in creativity and the process of it. But it is a process, and one that can be prone on occasion to stress, and that is what I think a lot of people outside the creative arts don’t understand: that the joy doesn’t equate an absence of stress. Basically, if I had a nickle for every time someone wanted me to turn around a freshly designed knitted project for them in two weeks, I’d have, at least, several dollars. The good ones are those who listen when I explain the length of time that will likely be required, and stick with me, because the project matters enough to them- they aren’t looking for a cheap/quick sweater or hat or toy they could probably find at Walmart. As my husband often says, “Cheap, Quick, Good- pick two.” Sometimes, though, my creative projects don’t begin with a commission, but with something I stumble across.
The other day, I found a very dirty teddy bear in a pile of garbage by the side of the road. This wasn’t gross garbage, it consisted of yard waste and old boards- and several tossed aside stuffed animals, as it turns out. I was walking past, and saw one that I thought looked like it could be refurbished. Several were of the cheap, tiny variety- which is fine, but not really my thing. One was made of terrible fabric that couldn’t be salvaged. But one was different. I picked it up and furtively smelled it – no mold, no cat pee, no cigarette smoke – just the rather okay smell of garden soil. I think this little bear had been abandoned in an outdoor child’s play area for most of the year.
I put the bear on the floor of my car and drove away. At home, it went in a grocery bag and sat overnight on the dryer in our laundry room. The next day, I took it outside and photographed it.

I took it back to the laundry and opened the seam on its back and took out the stuffing. No gross anything, just matted and inadequate stuffing. Threw that away and the little bear went into a bucket of hot water, vinegar and a generous dose of Sal Suds where it sat undisturbed for awhile. It took three trips through the washing machine, a good brushing, and a few spot treatments, but the bear was finally clean, sterile, and ready to be put back together.

The bear needed its nose spruced up, all new stuffing and a little trimming here and there of stray fur. That was it. And a new ribbon, of course. So, I started working on the bear and had finished within an hour. The difference is fairly astounding, I think.

Now, this bear wasn’t originally my creation, but I used creative problem-solving to revive it and make it better and useable again. The little crocheted heart (I totally stole this idea from Build-A-Bear) went inside, and I sprinkled an essential oil blend on it that is supposed to “calm and ground” the user. For me, the process of creating a new life for an old, worn object is calming and grounding. It isn’t always about creating an all new item, sometimes its about saving an old one- and we could all do better in this regard.