I want to believe I am worthy. I seek to justify the unlikely miracle of my very existence.
Why do I do this?
Surely I should just take the gift and make of it what I can, but there is always the small, just heard voice that says I am not good enough. That I have earned none of my privileges, that I squander the precious gifts I have been given.
In therapy we speak of rewriting our narrative. I work to reframe difficult traumas into important learning experiences. I exchange a broken lens that no longer serves me for one that seeks the positive born of life’s trials.
I am industrious. I do not lay down before hardship. I will always slog my way through to the other side.
I am cooperative. I strive for harmony. Compassion. I work to know the other.
I am creative. I do not make art for the journey, for the joy of the finished creation. I create because I must. It is as natural and essential a process to me as breath.
Some days these pieces of me come together in whimsical ways. First, a sketch. A single honey bee, like those currently dancing over the bright purple flowers that dust our rosemary. The features exaggerated into something of a cartoon. An idea that can be lifted off the page, brought to life with yellow and black yarn. Magic rings and simple stitches made into easy spheres and simple tubes. A finished piece that reminds me of the best of myself.
An industrious, cooperative, creative little bee.
This amigurumi bee was made freehand with a 5.00mm/H crochet hook and small amounts of yellow, black, white, green, and pink Sugar ‘n Cream cotton yarn.