The cruellest month
Spring, sewing, and sorry-not-sorry
Kia ora folks!
When I started this newsletter I privately vowed that I would never write one of those newsletters that starts “sorry I’ve been gone SO LONG, I am the WORST PERSON, I am rushing to berate myself before YOU BERATE ME” because
- I’m not that keen on self-deprecation, in myself or others, and
- Hey, stuff happens, and
- I reckon anyone who likes my work/me enough to sign up for my braindumps is fully aware of 2. and is capable of granting grace and understanding without me doing an elaborate apology dance begging for them.
I’m not apologising for missing the last couple of weeks, because I have been spectacularly busy with teaching and it couldn’t be helped. But I am sorry, on my own behalf, that I couldn’t find the time to write to you, because it is genuinely one of my favourite things.
So, hi! I’m glad you’re here! How are you?
Spring
The seasons are turning!
There is nothing like a community full of teenagers in spring to remind you that just because humans are thinking animals doesn’t mean they’re not animals. Everybody is very lively. There’s a lot of billing and cooing, and the occasional strutting dance of rivals butting metaphorical antlers.
Christchurch, also known as the Garden City, because we are EXTREMELY English, thank you, does spring very well. The magnolias are bursting into exuberant bloom, daffodils sprout from many roadside verges, and the cherry trees ringing Hagley Park form delicate clouds of pink and white.
When I lived in Japan1 I hated the humid, sticky summers, but spring has never been more lovely than it was there, and every time I see the cherry trees bloom I am reminded of that.
Sewing
Sewing is something I took up during the most heinous, hectic years of the pandemic. Sewing makes me concentrate, follow instructions carefully, and slow down2. It’s a balm to the too-busy brain.
And thus, being too busy, I have been carving out time to make a few things, one of them being this blouse.
It’s a billowy affair that catches every errant breeze and makes me feel like a beam of sunshine. The pattern is by designer Vivian Shao Chen, who also does ceramics, and she named it the Nepheline Blouse after nepheline syenite, a rock used in glazing.
You know who else does ceramics? The amazing cover artist for the Olympus Inc. novels, Alison Cooley! Alison has done even better than her usual great work for the Hera book cover, and I’m very much looking forward to showing it to you all.
Until then!
Karen.