It’s my birthday…
and I’ll cry if I want to
Cake, burnout, silk and ceremony…
It rained all day, too - because it always does. In June. Without fail. But there was cake…sort of
Horrors, we didn’t have icing sugar so I whizzed up some sugar in the blender. Turns out, not for long enough. Gritty and not in a good way. Had to scrape it off best I could, go shopping and try again. Better.
Despite the rain, we ventured out to seek colour, cloth and lunch - always an excellent combo - and came home with a lovely haul, courtesy of birthday donations from my two ‘mothers’, one step and one in-law (a term she hates and fair enough).
Turns out that a quantity of Indian silk and indigo is just what I need to offset a day earlier in the week where all I wanted to do was curl up on the sofa and have a bit of an existential crisis, questioning everything from who I am to what I’m trying to do and why. These things don’t happen very often, so when they do they fairly squarely wallop me around the chops, knock the stuffing out of me.
I have no idea what I’m going to do with these scraps, and don’t ‘need’ them in any way - but that’s not the point. The point is, they needed to come home with me. It was my birthday, after all. Others may choose to sip champagne by candlelight or go out on the town, I choose to clutter up my desk with yet more stuff I’ll have to find a home and/or project for.
What’s your favourite way to pull yourself back out of a slump?
I wasn’t the only one with a birthday
In need of a teensy-weensy-bit more ‘therapy’ to recover my joie de vivre, this time the Gudrun Sjoden kind (even if only to look at all the pretty colours) I tootled up to my home town on Saturday. Thanks to a suggestion from my companion (my Girl, home for a break before dissertation writing deadlines kick in) we found ourselves alongside The Mall in time to see his Maj and his be-braided and horsed-up entourage returning to Buck Pal:
He’d been up the road ‘inspecting the troops’ at Horse Guards Parade, part of Trooping of the Colour and his official birthday celebrations.
After they’d all trundled/marched past (depending on whether in a carriage or on foot, and what’s the difference between a chariot, carriage or coach? we couldn’t decide, but it’s a glorious mental image, Charles and Camilla careering down The Mall in a chariot) we lounged around on the grass of St James’ Park for another half hour before a 41 gun salute and Royal Air Force fly-past topped off with the Red Arrows blatting down The Mall. As my daughter pointed out, if you were a tourist freshly landed in the UK, wandering through the city getting acclimatised, hearing cannon fire and military jets overhead might not be the welcome you’d expect…
I love that we witnessed it all in a very casual, didn’t-really-mean-to kind of way. Didn’t pay a penny or wait in line or anything, just turned up and waved to the King as if it was just another Saturday, then carried on with our day.
I know a considerable number of my readers are from across the Pond and love a bit of British pomp, so here’s some more:
Being able to ride a horse wearing all that braid and metal is one thing, but to play the tuba while doing so…unfortunately it does all remind me a bit of this…
After a spot of lunch and the purchase of many unnecessary but lovely gel pens in Muji, we wended our way back towards our train home, and stumbled upon the London Symphony Orchestra playing the Planet Suite by Holst in the middle of Trafalgar Square - as you do - to the accompaniment of buses, motorbikes and police sirens.
Here’s the best bit of Jupiter, you can just about hear I vow to thee my country above the traffic:
If you like, you can watch the whole concert here - starts around 06.30 with an intro by Tim Peake, British astronaut.
Talk about a day of peak Britain, lol!
I’m not a royalist, being largely ambivalent to the whole thing, but if forced to choose I’d rather have what we have than be a republic: the idea of it all being scrapped in lieu of some presidential system is too hideous to contemplate, considering some of the truly vile people in political life at the moment who might fancy a shot at the throne…
Yes, it’s all totally mad, 1000% privileged, financially dubious and ethically at odds with some of my deeper values, but I also have to admit a little soft spot for all the shiny boots and feathery hats, glossy horses and swords and ceremony tucked away somewhere inside my otherwise indifferent heart. More than anything, I do love London - and that I feel so utterly safe and at home there.
So all in all, a more positive end to the week than the start - until I made the mistake of checking my emails on the way home and nearly launched myself back into another crisis, about which more perhaps another time. To be clear, it wasn’t the emails (nothing awful’s happened) more that I felt the need to check…
Anyhoo, I’m off to stroke my sari silk swatches…
Until next time!
If you’d like to support me a little more, you can always buy me a coffee - that’d be more than lovely too 😊
A few other bits and pieces for you
Completely by chance - although these things are never really chance, are they? - I’ve recently read a couple of excellent posts here on Substack.
First off, Kathryn Vercillo talking about creative burn-out, how to spot it and treat it. This one gave me much pause for thought, for sure.
My planned autumn of creative recovery after finishing the Swirls course just didn’t happen, for Reasons - and now here I am again, nearly a year later and it all feels awfully familiar…
And then a little bit of Carl Jung…
Another fascinating read…
Finally, if you fancy a bit of machine embroidery this summer!
These two courses are open to join and begin right now - with an option to get them both for nearly 30% off if you can’t choose 😀
Happy birthday, Izzy! I laughed at the gritty icing sugar (such a me thing to do!) and nodded along to the existential crisis, and the phrase "the point is, they needed to come home with me." I suspect many of us have our own version of sari silk scraps, unnecessary but completely essential purchases or squirrelings that remind us who we are and soothe us when we are in a questioning all the things phase! It's reassuring to be reminded that even people who seem very grounded and creatively certain from the outside occasionally get walloped around the chops by doubt. Wishing you a year filled with beautiful cloth, accidental adventures and all the good things :)
Happy happy birthday dear Izzy - what a fabulous haul of colourful and magnificent fabrics that "needed to come home" with you! hahahaha that cracked me up and I fully understand exactly that thought (also ditto for the Muji gel pens...!?)
If ever cake and fabric scraps fail to help with a potential future funk - don't hesitate to drop me a line. I can almost 100% guarantee you'd be right as rain (reign?? now I can't even think what the expression really means? Surely "right as sunshine" or "right as a rainbow" would be more technically appropriate? ) anyway, hit me up if you ever need cheering up. xxxx Claire