"“But... but... where’s the struggle?” he stammered." - I so relate to this. An author I follow on substack mentioned something months ago that has really stuck with me. She said, "what if you do it like it's no big deal?" I started looking at how I structure my life, especially work, and started seeing the addiction I have to making things into a big deal. Offering value, and art, and self expressing like it's no big deal has been a challenging but very useful practice. I love how "the tyrant" is already becoming a character in your world that I suspect we haven't heard the last from.
Thank you for this thoughtful and wonderfully layered comment—it’s like you’ve taken the struggle AND the ease of creating and threaded them into something profound. I love that idea: "What if you do it like it’s no big deal?" It’s almost like an antidote to The Tyrant
I'm inspired by your practice of letting go of the drama sounds like a radical act of defiance—against both external pressures and those internal voices that thrive on overcomplication.
Thank you for seeing the seeds of something bigger in The Tyrant. He’s definitely sticking around, though I suspect he'll need to learn how to chill. Maybe we both will.
Your writing seems effortless, so thank you for sharing the struggles behind the needlework. It feels right, after your Mechanic’s Dictionary, that your next piece should talk about your mother. I love the buttons theme and this line, “like trying to force a coat button through a shirt hole”, is a refreshing take on “square peg in a round hole”.
Thank you for this thoughtful comment—it's like you reached into the button tin yourself and pulled out something special.
I’m glad you noticed the "needlework"—writing often feels like stitching together loose threads while hoping it doesn’t unravel mid-draft. So, your appreciation means a lot.
And the "coat button through a shirt hole" line? I'd like to think it captures that all-too-human experience of fumbling through life, trying to make things fit.
I'm glad to know it resonated with you. Thanks for seeing the bigger story between the buttons.
Every essay a gem. Thank you for your thoughtfulness, KZ.
"frozen between deadlines and dignity" - I have now found the phrase that describes the failing fight with myself that pulled the plug on my previous newsletters.
Thank you for such a kind and affirming comment—it’s the sort of thing that makes the hours spent untangling words feel like time well spent.
The tension between "deadlines and dignity" is such a universal struggle for creators—those moments where the weight of expectations meets the quiet insistence on doing things 'right'. But the fact that you’re here, reflecting and engaging, shows that the fight wasn’t a failure—it was just a pause in the process.
Here’s to finding new rhythms and reclaiming your voice, one gem at a time. And for what it’s worth, I’d love to read whatever comes next from you.
I woke up to your recommendation for my substack. I am humbled. Had my mother still been alive, I would have shared this with her first. And I know what she would have said "Daddy would be so proud of you." Thank you, deeply.
Karena, it humbles me deeply to know my recommendation connected with you on that level. Writing can feel like a lonely act sometimes, but moments like this remind me it’s really about connection. Thank you for letting me be a small part of yours. Your work deserves to be seen, celebrated, and, most importantly, shared with the people who would’ve loved it most.
Thanks, Moon. Your reading between the lines means a lot - there's something powerful and inspiring about seeing someone understand exactly what you were trying to thread together.
Oh how I love this! What first caught me was the image of the buttons! I have several bags of old buttons that will turn into an art piece "one of these years" once I get back to making art. And the whole scheduling thing is an ongoing query as well. I love how giving up on the 3rd essay ( mine is still in process-draft 4) suddenly opened the flood gates to a piece you loved the most. I think I might try that for myself.
Thank you once again Linda! Your comment feels like its own little art piece, stitched together with humor and heart. I love that you have bags of buttons waiting for their moment as well! It’s such a beautiful metaphor for the ideas we carry around, waiting for just the right time to turn them into something meaningful.
And letting go of that 3rd essay was like loosening a stubborn jar lid, and I’m thrilled it resonated with you. Wishing you your own floodgates moment with draft 4. Sometimes the best things sneak through when we least expect them.
You & your mom’s button collection are on the right track (at least, so says this fellow sewist with a button collection of my own).
Sometimes, the creative process(es) just don’t line up, no matter what you do. That’s your sign for you to go and do something else for a bit. If you don’t force a thing, it will arrive in its own good time.
Thank you. It’s always comforting to hear from a fellow sewist who truly gets it. Buttons, like ideas, seem to have their own schedule, don’t they? No matter how much we prod or plan, sometimes they just won’t line up until they’re ready.
Stepping away can feel counterintuitive, but it’s amazing how often the best things sneak in when we’re not looking. Here’s to letting the process unfold in its own time.. both for buttons and for creativity.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for this gem of a comment Regina! Like your magpie metaphor suggests, I'll keep gathering my shiny moments - each one a small treasure waiting for its perfect place in the nest. You're the dream intentional reader any writer could hope for!
The button/thread/sewing metaphor is so good. Leaves me thinking about all the extensions, well after reading this. The time, effort to find a matching button, and then later you remember there’s a spare on the shirt tail - that is exactly what writing feels like sometimes. Appreciate the macro message too, that it’s okay to try what works for others, but to ultimately find and trust what works for you as the author. Bang on.
Thank you, Matt. You know that feeling when someone not only gets what you're trying to say, but then runs with it and finds hidden rooms in the metaphor you didn't even know you'd built? That's exactly what you just did with the shirt-tail button observation. Made my day.
I'm putting this essay in my button tin. You are a master weaver of words and I feel like I can breathe again when it comes to deadlines and the definition of consistency.
It's a daily struggle. On I know I will face again and again. But there is comfort here, sitting with you and your followers on a plump cushion in your sewing room/study. A crackling fire and the soft sifting of buttons like a lullaby in the background. Bravo.👏🙏🏻💙💚🦋
Thank you for this gentle reflection, Michelle. Your image of the sewing room feels so right! Like you've added the perfect missing detail to my collection. And yes, let's sit here a while longer, listening to those buttons shift and settle.
Kuriakin - this is such a brilliant essay. Such powerful observations expressed in memorable bits. I so loved this: “Like how certain questions stick with you like a loose thread, begging to be pulled. Like why the smell of rain feels like a memory. Like why dogs tilt their heads when you talk to them. Like why people have an avocado slicer in their kitchen. Each observation goes into my button tin, waiting to find its match.”
The dog tilting its head is just perfect. We have a French bulldog and so often I look at him, and when I’m about to say something he tilts his head ever so slightly with an inquisitive look. 👀
What powerful observations you have.
You are why Substack exists - to discover writers halfway around the world that move us and inspire us. 🙏
Thank you James! The image of your French bulldog tilting its head adds so much life to that little thread of mine. I'd like to think that dogs are nature’s poets, tilting their heads to remind us of the beauty in curiosity. Your encouragement means the world, truly. 🙏🐾
This is beautiful. The button metaphor works so elegantly to explain how things fit together. Not everything that others do will work the same way for us, I’m on a journey to realise this myself.
And then there’s the saga of wasting time! Chaos.
this is my favourite part “is like trying to force a coat button through a shirt hole, knowing it’s wrong but hoping nobody notices.”
Thank you so much Claire. Your words mean the world.
I’m glad the button metaphor spoke to you. It’s such a small object, easily ignored, but holds so much meaning about finding what fits. I wrote about writing here but as you hinted at - it's beyond that.
That coat button line was one of my favorites to write, so it’s wonderful to hear it resonated.
Thank you for sharing your journey with me. It makes the chaos feel a little less lonely Claire, truly.
Thank you for your tapestry of thoughts. The dyes to color the fabric take longer when we start from scratch. Vs purchasing what’s already out there or even, trendy. The machines can still assemble for us certain parts (admittedly my own AI process) but people will see the authenticity in a genuinely crafted cloth. (Admits to assembling sewing related terms and needs to use Perplexity to get schooled)
Thank you for this thoughtful comment—it’s like you’ve just added another vibrant thread to this tapestry we’re weaving. You're not alone—my process is a bit of a patchwork itself. AI sometimes acts as my sewing assistant—albeit an awkward and not always efficient one.
There’s a part of me that still resists on using it, like I’m afraid the machine will flatten the authenticity of what I’m trying to craft. But as you said, people can see the difference when the cloth has been genuinely hand-dyed, even if some seams get a little help along the way.
Here’s to crafting slowly, thoughtfully, and with just the right balance of old tools and new. Thank you for inspiring me to reflect on this! 🧵✨
"“But... but... where’s the struggle?” he stammered." - I so relate to this. An author I follow on substack mentioned something months ago that has really stuck with me. She said, "what if you do it like it's no big deal?" I started looking at how I structure my life, especially work, and started seeing the addiction I have to making things into a big deal. Offering value, and art, and self expressing like it's no big deal has been a challenging but very useful practice. I love how "the tyrant" is already becoming a character in your world that I suspect we haven't heard the last from.
Thank you for this thoughtful and wonderfully layered comment—it’s like you’ve taken the struggle AND the ease of creating and threaded them into something profound. I love that idea: "What if you do it like it’s no big deal?" It’s almost like an antidote to The Tyrant
I'm inspired by your practice of letting go of the drama sounds like a radical act of defiance—against both external pressures and those internal voices that thrive on overcomplication.
Thank you for seeing the seeds of something bigger in The Tyrant. He’s definitely sticking around, though I suspect he'll need to learn how to chill. Maybe we both will.
Your writing seems effortless, so thank you for sharing the struggles behind the needlework. It feels right, after your Mechanic’s Dictionary, that your next piece should talk about your mother. I love the buttons theme and this line, “like trying to force a coat button through a shirt hole”, is a refreshing take on “square peg in a round hole”.
Thank you for this thoughtful comment—it's like you reached into the button tin yourself and pulled out something special.
I’m glad you noticed the "needlework"—writing often feels like stitching together loose threads while hoping it doesn’t unravel mid-draft. So, your appreciation means a lot.
And the "coat button through a shirt hole" line? I'd like to think it captures that all-too-human experience of fumbling through life, trying to make things fit.
I'm glad to know it resonated with you. Thanks for seeing the bigger story between the buttons.
Every essay a gem. Thank you for your thoughtfulness, KZ.
"frozen between deadlines and dignity" - I have now found the phrase that describes the failing fight with myself that pulled the plug on my previous newsletters.
Thank you for such a kind and affirming comment—it’s the sort of thing that makes the hours spent untangling words feel like time well spent.
The tension between "deadlines and dignity" is such a universal struggle for creators—those moments where the weight of expectations meets the quiet insistence on doing things 'right'. But the fact that you’re here, reflecting and engaging, shows that the fight wasn’t a failure—it was just a pause in the process.
Here’s to finding new rhythms and reclaiming your voice, one gem at a time. And for what it’s worth, I’d love to read whatever comes next from you.
I woke up to your recommendation for my substack. I am humbled. Had my mother still been alive, I would have shared this with her first. And I know what she would have said "Daddy would be so proud of you." Thank you, deeply.
Karena, it humbles me deeply to know my recommendation connected with you on that level. Writing can feel like a lonely act sometimes, but moments like this remind me it’s really about connection. Thank you for letting me be a small part of yours. Your work deserves to be seen, celebrated, and, most importantly, shared with the people who would’ve loved it most.
Oh, this is WONDERFUL.
You are definitely my second favorite writer/button collector today. 😜
Daphne, I'll proudly display my silver medal in the writer/button collector rankings – because second favorite is better than nothing at all! ✨🥹🤣
Kuriakin, I like how direct and starightfoward you article is.
Very interesting analogy of comparing consistency to your mum's collection of buttons. I can see there is much to be explored from your essays.
Thanks, Moon. Your reading between the lines means a lot - there's something powerful and inspiring about seeing someone understand exactly what you were trying to thread together.
Nice play of words. I push that button well 😂
Oh how I love this! What first caught me was the image of the buttons! I have several bags of old buttons that will turn into an art piece "one of these years" once I get back to making art. And the whole scheduling thing is an ongoing query as well. I love how giving up on the 3rd essay ( mine is still in process-draft 4) suddenly opened the flood gates to a piece you loved the most. I think I might try that for myself.
Thank you once again Linda! Your comment feels like its own little art piece, stitched together with humor and heart. I love that you have bags of buttons waiting for their moment as well! It’s such a beautiful metaphor for the ideas we carry around, waiting for just the right time to turn them into something meaningful.
And letting go of that 3rd essay was like loosening a stubborn jar lid, and I’m thrilled it resonated with you. Wishing you your own floodgates moment with draft 4. Sometimes the best things sneak through when we least expect them.
You & your mom’s button collection are on the right track (at least, so says this fellow sewist with a button collection of my own).
Sometimes, the creative process(es) just don’t line up, no matter what you do. That’s your sign for you to go and do something else for a bit. If you don’t force a thing, it will arrive in its own good time.
Thank you. It’s always comforting to hear from a fellow sewist who truly gets it. Buttons, like ideas, seem to have their own schedule, don’t they? No matter how much we prod or plan, sometimes they just won’t line up until they’re ready.
Stepping away can feel counterintuitive, but it’s amazing how often the best things sneak in when we’re not looking. Here’s to letting the process unfold in its own time.. both for buttons and for creativity.
This has been my last (and too late) nighttime read, and it so so beautiful. Congratulations! (and yay WoP cohort 13 👏🏻)!
Thank you, Brigitte - your midnight reading of my midnight writing feels exactly right (and yes, WoP 13 forever! 🙌).
“Did I think today?”
Now that’s a question worth reflecting on! Thanks for sharing this!
I did! Today I generated 4 new potential notes for this week.
love, love, love this! I waited to read it because I wanted to read it when I had time to savor it. Everything you write resonates with me.
Could go on....but all I can say is keep, like a magpie, collecting!
As we say in the yoga world--"practice, practice all is coming"
Thank you, thank you, thank you for this gem of a comment Regina! Like your magpie metaphor suggests, I'll keep gathering my shiny moments - each one a small treasure waiting for its perfect place in the nest. You're the dream intentional reader any writer could hope for!
The button/thread/sewing metaphor is so good. Leaves me thinking about all the extensions, well after reading this. The time, effort to find a matching button, and then later you remember there’s a spare on the shirt tail - that is exactly what writing feels like sometimes. Appreciate the macro message too, that it’s okay to try what works for others, but to ultimately find and trust what works for you as the author. Bang on.
Thank you, Matt. You know that feeling when someone not only gets what you're trying to say, but then runs with it and finds hidden rooms in the metaphor you didn't even know you'd built? That's exactly what you just did with the shirt-tail button observation. Made my day.
Good deal. It’s a honor being here with you my man. Keep doing your thing- it’s a good one. 🙏👊
I'm putting this essay in my button tin. You are a master weaver of words and I feel like I can breathe again when it comes to deadlines and the definition of consistency.
It's a daily struggle. On I know I will face again and again. But there is comfort here, sitting with you and your followers on a plump cushion in your sewing room/study. A crackling fire and the soft sifting of buttons like a lullaby in the background. Bravo.👏🙏🏻💙💚🦋
Thank you for this gentle reflection, Michelle. Your image of the sewing room feels so right! Like you've added the perfect missing detail to my collection. And yes, let's sit here a while longer, listening to those buttons shift and settle.
Kuriakin - this is such a brilliant essay. Such powerful observations expressed in memorable bits. I so loved this: “Like how certain questions stick with you like a loose thread, begging to be pulled. Like why the smell of rain feels like a memory. Like why dogs tilt their heads when you talk to them. Like why people have an avocado slicer in their kitchen. Each observation goes into my button tin, waiting to find its match.”
The dog tilting its head is just perfect. We have a French bulldog and so often I look at him, and when I’m about to say something he tilts his head ever so slightly with an inquisitive look. 👀
What powerful observations you have.
You are why Substack exists - to discover writers halfway around the world that move us and inspire us. 🙏
Thank you James! The image of your French bulldog tilting its head adds so much life to that little thread of mine. I'd like to think that dogs are nature’s poets, tilting their heads to remind us of the beauty in curiosity. Your encouragement means the world, truly. 🙏🐾
Mmmm. Yes. Process = purity. Pleasure > pressure. All of it. Yep.
Yep. Like finding that one weird button at the bottom of the tin that somehow makes the whole collection make sense.
This is beautiful. The button metaphor works so elegantly to explain how things fit together. Not everything that others do will work the same way for us, I’m on a journey to realise this myself.
And then there’s the saga of wasting time! Chaos.
this is my favourite part “is like trying to force a coat button through a shirt hole, knowing it’s wrong but hoping nobody notices.”
I really felt that. Great job.
Thank you so much Claire. Your words mean the world.
I’m glad the button metaphor spoke to you. It’s such a small object, easily ignored, but holds so much meaning about finding what fits. I wrote about writing here but as you hinted at - it's beyond that.
That coat button line was one of my favorites to write, so it’s wonderful to hear it resonated.
Thank you for sharing your journey with me. It makes the chaos feel a little less lonely Claire, truly.
Thank you for your tapestry of thoughts. The dyes to color the fabric take longer when we start from scratch. Vs purchasing what’s already out there or even, trendy. The machines can still assemble for us certain parts (admittedly my own AI process) but people will see the authenticity in a genuinely crafted cloth. (Admits to assembling sewing related terms and needs to use Perplexity to get schooled)
Thank you for this thoughtful comment—it’s like you’ve just added another vibrant thread to this tapestry we’re weaving. You're not alone—my process is a bit of a patchwork itself. AI sometimes acts as my sewing assistant—albeit an awkward and not always efficient one.
There’s a part of me that still resists on using it, like I’m afraid the machine will flatten the authenticity of what I’m trying to craft. But as you said, people can see the difference when the cloth has been genuinely hand-dyed, even if some seams get a little help along the way.
Here’s to crafting slowly, thoughtfully, and with just the right balance of old tools and new. Thank you for inspiring me to reflect on this! 🧵✨