I finished my last lecture today and gave myself permission to play. I messed around with supplies around the studio, cutting, sewing and gluing. The kittens came in and out, making stuff and doing homework while Dan Barney baked an apple pie that made the house smell heavenly.
On evenings like these my heart hurts a little. It's that ache that accompanies love, my heart swelled up and stretched. It's gratitude for something delicate and precious, these people in these moments.
My creations were fun but nothing spectacular. With play, the process seems most important. And the later it gets the less productive I get but I feel calm and content with my mind quiet, my hands busy and my heart warm.