Missing Greenjeans


Outback at NH ceramicist Kit Cornell's.

Well hello! My, it’s been forever.

Tonight I was thinking back fondly on my Greenjeans days. Actually, I think back on Greenjeans quite often. Tonight it’s because had a pang of missing my independence. (Maybe it’s because until last week I hadn’t been anyone’s full-time employee in 9 years, and while I’m glad, it’s also . . . different.)  I’m so absorbed these days with my job and overall totally love what I do. It’s challenging (always), satisfying (most of the time) and contributing to the greater good (most definitely), but I don’t always smile on my way in to work as I once did. It’s not dire, it’s just . . . different.

More acutely, I miss being engaged in the craftly experiences, encounters and debates that were a feature of the daily life I enjoyed for so many years. These days, I’m just not as tuned in, and I miss it. I miss writing about it and hanging out with artists and craftspeople. Being that engaged was completely absorbing and time-consuming in a great way. I felt that I was growing, learning, contributing to something wonderful, valuable and worthy. And I was completely interested in every single aspect.

Outside of my job now, it seems these days I have less time to pursue personal interests. (Not that I’m not interested in social justice and human rights — I passionately am. But it’s . . . different.)

Nevertheless, I do have seasons where I’m quite into tagging (see aes-tags.blogspot.com). I read lots of novels, mostly by foreign writers. Nanowrimo is in my sights for next month — I’m hoping to finish writing a novel I started a couple years ago. I’ve written a magazine article and done some other blogging. I go and see art when I can. And that’s all great.

Yet bottom line: I miss working in the world of the creative, the thoughtful, the slow, the beautiful, the personal.

The many benefits that come with where I am today can’t be beat. My job by any standards is pretty great. It wasn’t easy to get.

And yet, tonight at least, I think I’d trade it all in for a wood burning stove in an efficient little house near the coast in Maine, making my living with my writing in a different way, writing poems and plays and novels. Using my hands outdoors. Growing flowers. Painting furniture. Cooking with local ingredients. Sleeping under a down blanket because it’s just a little drafty. Getting my mail from a mailbox on a post at the end of the yard. Jae has a studio in the barn. . . Maybe set up a new shop/gallery in the local tourist town, rebuild the bridge between traditional craft and the craft new wave. . . .

Anyway! Such are my musings tonight. I’ve been so long off the blogs. Maybe I’ll come back for a visit once in a while…

How are YOU?


3 Responses to “Missing Greenjeans”

  1. Peggy Says:

    I miss Greenjeans!

  2. aesbklyn Says:

    We miss you!

  3. Linda Says:

    How funny to see your post this morning. I am stuck with the sniffles in bed. With the computer keeping me company, I read the current ACC newsletter. I cannot help but find myself wishing I were reading your blog. I miss your perspective on the handmade universe. So to arrive at this post to see you doing the same it feels like zeitgeist.
    I am a glass blower in Maine, I live in a not completely converted warehouse pretty far up north. I make my living much as you described -but not writing, instead i blow bubbles. and teach. It’s lovely and tough of late. Which is why i miss the beacon of light from your like minded articles that always seemed to understands the philosophy of “handmade for a conscientious living”.
    Well it’s clear you can’t bring Greenjeans back any time soon . But you can still write. And I have a feeling that your perspective on what ever you put your mind to will be very interesting. So do, keep blogging there are folks out here who miss you more than you know.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: