This year I accidentally picked up a new hobby: crocheting. By “picked up,” I mean I went down the YouTube rabbit hole, bought entirely too much yarn, and suddenly became a crocheting queen.
Which basically means that if you’re in my family circle, you’re getting something crocheted for Christmas — a deeply sincere something. Handmade gifts are happening whether you asked for them or not.
What I love about crocheting (and knitting too) is how it starts. You begin with a simple ball of yarn. That’s it. No shape, no purpose, just potential. Then, one stitch at a time, something appears where there was nothing before. It’s slow, repetitive, and kind of meditative—perfect for the darker, quieter days of Winter.
I think that feeling carries over into music.
Music isn’t tangible in the same way yarn is. You can’t wrap it up or stick a bow on it. But the process feels incredibly similar. You start with an instrument sitting silently in your hands. Then you add movement, rhythm, breath, bow, fingers. And suddenly there’s sound. A tune. A feeling. Something shared.
Especially this time of year, that idea of creating something out of nothing feels important. Winter can be heavy. Days are short. Energy is low. But we still make things—songs, gifts, meals, moments. We gather. We play tunes. We stitch rows. We make small acts of warmth for the people around us.
So if you get a crocheted gift from me this Christmas, know that it’s coming from the same place as a favorite tune at a session: made by hand, maybe a little imperfect, but full of love. And maybe that’s what Christmas is really asking of us—to create something from the heart and pass it along to those we love. 🎄🧶🎶
Happy holidays!
Session Obsession 