I’ve been obsessed this past week with making a new tote bag. I have a quilting class coming up this next week and wanted a bag big enough to hold all the stuff I’ll need and keep things like scissors from scratching things like phones. The first photo is the bag in progress, everything in place, if not sewn up), except for the handles, the pieces of which are sitting on the ironing board, waiting to be pressed and assembled. The second photo is a look at the pockets before they were attached to the bag. I had to puzzle out the pocket design since the pattern did not include any pockets, but my friend Peg had done them in her version of the tote, so I figured I could too. I’m quite pleased with how they turned out, the scissors held tightly in place and the phone pocket loose enough to easily fish out the phone when I need it.

Yes, it seems the world is going insane out there. No Kings 3 is coming up on Saturday, and I’m writing Get Out the Vote postcards every day and writing my Congressional Reps in favor of defunding ICE and against the SAVE Act. There’s so much bad news, so many harsh losses, so much to fight for and against every day.

It’s picking up the needle and thread, lining up a seam on the sewing machine, or adding a bit of quilting to a test piece that keeps me sane in these perilous times. Sorting scraps of fabric for an hour, getting ready for that class, becomes a meditation on color and harmony and for that sixty minutes or so, the world outside fades away and I get lost in being an artist. I emerge from my fabric rabbit hole more calm than I’ve been in days. Ah, the healing power of art, of beauty, the obsession of creating something from nothing.