I am waiting for inertia, like Elvis, to leave the building. Previous moves always included a failsafe way to find a daily community. College, work, mothering-related groups, children's schools. This one is harder. I don't know my children's schoolmates parents since we are no longer at a small private school. I am having a slow time finding work teaching yoga. I don't have any work other than the self-directed kind: unpack, rearrange, help children settle in, locate the necessities of living in a new place (schools, library, grocery stores, medical providers, etc.). Oh, and felting, which is also solitary and self-directed. It isn't as though I didn't know this was coming, but living in reality is a bit more challenging than preparing for that reality.
In the meantime, I found the Textile Center in St. Paul, getting lost more than once on the way. (Not knowing how to get places is my least favorite part of moving.) A beautiful space housing many classrooms for weaving, dyeing, sewing; a small studio currently housing an exhibit of art dolls (that were extraordinary); a library that was closed; offices; and a small shop. I browsed, picked up brochures for summer camps for my girl, and purchased something to dispel the inertia: a book called 1000 Artisan Textiles (Quarry Press). From clothing to accessories to household goods to wall hangings to 3-dimensional art, it is a feast for the weary textile artist. Something to inspire and challenge. It has me ready to pull out the sewing machine and learn more about garment construction rather than continue plunging into seamless felted clothing without a basis for my attempts. It has me ready to try a felt painting. It has me ready to make another hat, another purse, a pillow, a bowl. In short, it is getting me interested in the days ahead.
Is it enough? Of course not. It isn't as though I am all alone. A friend of a friend took me out for a wonderful evening at the theatre. A couple of old friends (one from MI and one from high school) are also here, though I have yet to see them in person. And we have family here, too. But it is the daily community that I am wanting. I'm someone who knows her bank tellers by name, who chats with the other parents at a small school, who commiserates with the grocery cashier. I am a very social being. But it seems wool and silk are about to become my new best friends.
I am more excited at the prospect than I would have expected.