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| Unquestionably frivolous—but also a provider of great satisfaction and joy |
“‘In a time of destruction, create something.’ To be creative is to push back, again and again, against despair, complacency, and cruelty.” - Maxine Hong Kingston, quoted by Maggie Smith in Creative Fuel by Ana Brones
When I started blogging nearly 17 years ago, it was to build a creative outlet for myself and to document my life as an American immigrant to Australia, experiencing life in a new, faraway country with my husband and then four-year-old daughter. At that point, my other primary creative outlet was cooking and baking—practical and satisfying, if ephemeral.
Since then, my family and the blog have been through three more international moves, returning to the US seven years ago, into an era of political volatility that has only intensified. My own daily life is also much different: I’m now the mother of a young adult, attending university in another country; and my primary creative focus has shifted from food to fabric. I feel the desire to make things with my hands more than ever, but these days I get more satisfaction out of making things that are more enduring. I still love to make and eat good food, but I do it more on autopilot these days as I apply my brain to learn new skills using stitching.
I’ve really struggled with blogging over the past few years, feeling as though talking about my life of relative privilege and freedom to focus on creative endeavors is tone-deaf and irresponsible in the face of the hardship and horror that so many people are experiencing every day. And how to navigate the fact that everything about food, about crafting, about domestic life, is simultaneously fundamentally political and an escape from politics.
I find myself increasingly impatient with internet content that is purely focused on escape, that takes little or no notice of the realities that we in the US—and by extension the rest of the world—are currently navigating. Being able to focus on baking bread and stitching pillows is unquestionably a marker of privilege—and even more so than usual in this moment. And it can feel frivolous given the state of things. But I continue to think it is important. Every decision that I make about how and where I spend my money—and my time—is a political decision. And I feel strongly that putting my time and money and energy into endeavors that support local enterprises and communities over multinational corporations is political—and so is finding joy and self-actualization. There’s a hustle mentality component to activism along with everything else that appears on the internet; but that’s just another exhortation to set myself on fire to keep other people warm. I can’t change the world by myself, and I can’t work with other people if I’m too burned out and exhausted to leave the house. So I’m trying to embrace making things as resistance, and make time for them alongside more conventional resistance activities. I have been paralyzed by feeling I need to demonstrate that what I’m doing to live my values, or how I’m doing it, is ‘enough’ or ‘good enough’—but I’m going to try to continue to resist that idea as well, and re-integrate this blog among the things I make with my hands.