Cravings are funny things. Most people associate them with food — pregnancy, chocolate, the 3pm salt fix — but I get cravings for other things too. Like when I just have to read some trashy book. Nothing that requires thinking will do, I just throw them down after the first few pages and am not satisfied until I ripped my way though some suitably light-weight (and usually highly predictable) novel.
I also get cravings every now and then to just be creative. I don’t really have any one definite hobby; I’ve dabbled in knitting, card-making, scrapbooking, sewing, and even an ill-fated patchwork project once. I have a cupboard bursting with “useful” bits and pieces and unpacked boxes from three house moves ago that have a myriad of unfinished projects. I suspect the urge to be creative has passed down in my genes since my mother also enjoys to get hands on.
Today she taught me how to felt. I made a hideous beret way back at the start of high school and I’ve watched her in action on many occasions so I had some idea of the basics, but the process really is magic when you do it yourself. You start with fluffy tufts of wool, add soap and water, roll and bash away at it for a while and voila! you’ve made a solid piece of material. I don’t know what it is about the process of making something like that from scratch, but it’s always very fulfilling. In some ways I think it’s almost a primal thing; we spend so much time these days in a world that’s not properly real, creating things that aren’t tangible, so it’s just so amazing to be able to pick something up and say “I made that”.