fallow 1 |ˈfalō|
(of farmland) plowed and harrowed but left unsown for a period in order to restore its fertility.
I’m fairly green (HAR HAR) when it comes to veg growing. I have only the vaguest idea of what counts as a brassica, and I may or may not have left a ‘to-pant’ bulb of garlic in my sweater pocket on a Saturday that was found on a Tuesday. But the concept of letting a field lie fallow has made sense to me from day one. Like hibernation. OF COURSE mind and body need a break. I used to blame it on school and finals, but I’m more convinced now that I just need a step back once in a while, and now (December) is the perfect time to do so. It’s cold. It’s snowy.* It’s dark by five. Morning runs? How about yoga. Or how about a nap. Any and all beverages should be warm and dinner should include the words roasted, spicy, bread or some combination of them all. Even the internet becomes overwhelming- My internet connection, outside of work, has been used almost exclusively to lurk about craft sites and cheat at Zelda.
And It’s Christmas.** And being tragically uncool, I love Christmas in a most embarassingly unironic way. I love the lights, I love the songs, I love surprises. And I love telling people I love how much I love them. (Tragically. Un. Cool.)
Things I don’t love: crowds, rampant consumerism, people telling me to be jolly. Avoiding these things means lots of making/crafting happens this time of year too.
I’ve come to realize that this shift- from active to rest, from fast to slow, from making ART THINGS OF IMPORT to making Christmas ornaments for coworkers- is something I shouldn’t apologize for. I should instead embrace it. And take a nap.
So that’s where I’ve been- hibernating. Sitting on a pile of lovely visual and audio things to share. And will share them. Right after I wrap a few things. And finish this chapter. And make some tea.