I'm in a mood.
A creative mood.
I want to rush out and scour the local stores for fancy paper, fabric, patterns, punches and sparkles.
For what? I don't know. I do know I have a hankerin' for creatin'. Something. Creative like and artsy.
Annie, I need you to fly up and come for a therapeutic shop with me. I need to talk fabric, art, architecture and rolling landscape in the modern eye. Or perhaps I need to have a double double then pass out. Daddy Blues votes on that one. He is half comatose beside me reading and can't figure out why I can't just relax. Besides, I just read my new issue of DWELL. I have a house to design and build. AND its going to have 4 washers and 4 dryers. Because I said so.
I'm a woman. A creative one too. Relax is not a word in my vocabulary. I tossed it out years ago, it was no good and served me no purpose.
Where's my sewing machine?
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