My garden

I hook rugs the way I do because of who I am. 

I have never wanted anything perfect.

Perfect bothers me a little, makes me uncomfortable.

The other night I looked at my overgrown garden. 

It is not perfect but it is beautiful. 

The rhubarb gone to seed. 

The forget me nots from a long time ago

Reminding me of childhood.

The dandelions past their prime yet caught at their most beautiful time, when they are almost finished.

Nothing perfect, just the way I like it.

4 thoughts on “My garden

  1. so glad you reminded me that my own hand in my work is what matters, not the way others think it should be, or find the “imperfections” to them and not me. Yes, I do mix black and blue and change my strips , more like painting, not hooking. I am not uniform in loops either, but it works for me and the rug I create.


  2. You and I are kindred spirits from a good time, perfection makes me smile because it is never me, and therefore I must be happier. Your words made me warm and fuzzy.


  3. Imperfect is perfect! 🙂 I am drawn to imperfection as only then does it leave signs, the energy of the human who created it. I feel much more connected, almost like a signature….footprints in the sand(wool) 🙂 Thank you for reminding me.


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