A Little Note About Where I’ve Been

There are seasons when life asks us to put everything down for a while.

Since the middle of August, I’ve been away from my usual work here at Yumi Yarns. Our family experienced two unexpected losses, along with illnesses and a steady stream of medical appointments for family members. It’s been a difficult, emotional couple of months, and for a while, I simply didn’t have the capacity to keep up with designing, writing, photographing, filming, and sharing all the little pieces of work that make up this studio.

So I stepped away.

I didn’t have a grand plan for my return. I wasn’t working through a carefully organized list of business tasks or secretly preparing a collection behind the scenes. Most days, I was just trying to be present for my family and find a little breathing room wherever I could.

And, as it turns out, I needed that breathing room more than I realized.

Making something just because

One of the things I’ve been thinking about lately is how strange it can feel when a hobby becomes your work.

I’ve been knitting and crocheting since 2007, and designing professionally since 2011. Somewhere along the way, the things I once did purely for the pleasure of making became intertwined with deadlines, photographs, pattern releases, marketing plans, and the quiet pressure to always have something to show for my time.

I love this work. I love designing things that help other people feel confident in their own making. I love the conversations that happen around a shared love of yarn, and the connections that grow from the things we create.

But sometimes, when your creative life is also your livelihood, it becomes difficult to simply make something without thinking about what it might become.

Will it make a good pattern? Should I photograph it? Could this be a video? Is this something I ought to share?

Even the most comforting hobby can start to feel like another thing asking something of you.

During these past couple of months, I found myself needing a place where none of those questions mattered.

A blanket, a stack of books, and some wonderful friends

I started a simple crochet blanket for my toddler, using yarn I’d salvaged from last year’s failed attempt at making him a blanket.

It wasn’t a design project. It wasn’t a prototype. I wasn’t testing a stitch pattern or thinking about how to write the instructions. I just wanted to make something warm for my little boy, and the yarn was already waiting for me.

I also read. A lot.

And I spent time chatting with friends on Fable, sharing thoughts about the books we were reading and getting delightfully carried away in conversations about fictional worlds and characters.

There was something restorative about being part of a community where I didn’t need to be the designer, the business owner, or the person who was supposed to have everything figured out. I could simply be a reader who liked talking about stories with other people who liked talking about stories.

Those friendships, those books, and that small blanket gave me a place to rest when the rest of life felt particularly heavy.

I didn’t need every quiet moment to be productive. I didn’t need to turn every creative impulse into something useful. I could just enjoy it.

And I think I needed the reminder that creativity still belongs to me, even when I’m not sharing the results of it with anyone else.

The things I missed

Of course, stepping away also meant missing things I had been looking forward to.

I had to cancel the classes I was scheduled to teach at North Country Fiber Fair in September, and I missed my annual girls’ trip to the event. That was especially difficult. I had been looking forward to spending time with friends and fellow makers, and making the decision to step back brought its own share of anxiety.

The Fall issue of Farm & Fiber Knits was released while I was away, featuring my interview with the owners of Ewetopia!

I’m so grateful to see this conversation in print, even if I wasn’t able to celebrate and share it in the way I’d originally imagined. I really enjoyed the opportunity to talk with the owners of Ewetopia and learn more about their story, their work, and what makes their place in the fiber community special. I’ll be sharing more about the interview and the Fall issue here soon!

There are also projects waiting for me back at the studio, including the Soft Days Headscarf, which was entering its testing phase when I had to step away. I’ll be reconnecting with my testers this week and taking stock of where everything stands.

I’m learning that returning to work doesn’t mean I have to pick up every thread at once.

Finding my way back

I’m slowly leveling out. I’m beginning to feel a little more like myself, and I’m ready to start finding my way back to the work I love.

There will be patterns to finish, stories to write, yarn to explore, and ideas that have been patiently waiting their turn. I’ll share those things as I can, one step at a time.

I also want to make a little more room for the other things that make up a creative life: the books we read, the projects we make for our own homes, the friendships that grow around shared interests, and the quiet moments when we remember why we loved these things in the first place.

Thank you for being here, whether you’ve followed Yumi Yarns for years or have only recently found your way into this little corner of the internet. I know that my sudden absence may have left some of you wondering where I’d gone. I appreciate your patience more than I can say.

I’m not returning with a grand announcement or a perfectly organized plan. I’m simply opening the studio door again, settling in, and beginning where I am.

I’m glad to be here.

With gratitude,

Shaina

P.S. If you’ve also been in a season where you needed to put things down for a while, I hope you’ve been able to find a little space to breathe, too.