I sewed all afternoon yesterday, until it got dark. I made two lovely bags out of material that was difficult to work with. They're not perfect but I'm getting better every day. I look forward to the day when I can attempt clothing. I have such a hard time finding things that fit me properly. I dislike cold weather because I feel so oddly shaped and bulky in sweaters and heavy material. But I get cold easily.
I was looking through some writing from a year ago and I was kind of impressed. I have a small collection of unsent letters I was very into last year; when I read them my heart constricts. I was in a place of language that was lovely. Mostly I am recollecting dreams. I wonder why I don't write like that all of the time. The voice in the letters is the voice in which I feel I express myself best. I'm not too good at expression in real life, I think, but on paper I am sometimes gorgeous.