Spent the day at the Titirangi Mother's craft market today. It's odd to reflect on some much craft in one room. Why are we inclined to make these things. I never question or doubt the impulse and desire to create: it just feels so RIGHT and so real to me. But then I catch myself wondering whether the other things I get up to in life are as worthy of my time. Reading for example always seems to take the back foot and is something I do 'when I have the time to' whereas creating and pursuing creative ideas is a process so fundamentally part of me, I don't question it, and nor would I ever WANT to. However, it's all got me wondering why this desire is so intense and empowering; when I make stuff I am energized and excited about life, but am I really making a difference, or just a stock-pile of material goods?