Friday, November 21, 2014

In lieu of something soft and quilty

I had wanted my return to posting to be triumphant and colorful, but I am mired down with little sewing tasks and cleaning binges.  No real loss I think, but (truth be told) tidying up was not what I wanted to be doing.

It's necessary, this business of cleaning and straightening;
the chore of finding flat, stuff-free work surfaces;
getting your space back to 'square one', free of impediments and work stoppages.

Clean is always a good thing, but 'cleaning' kills the creative drive.  Cleaning-up stifles the rapid fire urges to make real those images that pop into the brain at a moment's notice.  It stymies creative juices when you have to put 'making' on halt in order to locate items for use and the space to create it in.

see-el-ee-ay-en.  C L E A N

Keeping a neat creative area is important.  Regular periodic effort put into neatening up every so often is a better way to maintain [my] space for when those pesky creative fairies strike without warning.  But it's still no fun.

A-l-t-h-o-u-g-h I must admit I have benefited greatly from less time spent searching for something I knew I had somewhere - some piece of material I knew I had cut from and placed aside for future use - because I had taken the time to put it neatly in a place of reverence for just such an occasion.  Yeah, [sgnort] that and I have been investing the time to clean up in between rows of my current long distance project.  This lesson I have learned over time.  After cutting well over 7,500 fussy cut pieces into 1" squares, and sewing together more than 5,800 of them into four-and-one-half rows of 1,130-pieces each, I feel well qualified to say that very regular bouts of cleaning are a necessary evil.  And it's probably more of a necessity when dealing with a limited amount of space.

My great grandmother was fond of saying "if you sweep the cobwebs out of your [rooms], you sweep them out of your mind."  I think she was most likely very close to the truth, though as a child that didn't hold the same meaning for me as it does now.  And, she most likely intended that homily to entice me in to helping her reach the corners of her rooms while standing on a chair - since we weren't allowed to stand on the furniture at any other time, and - since she was as small as a pixie and had a hard time making the broom stretch as far as I could.  I didn't mind, though, for I loved my great gran, and admired her earnestness and her take-no-prisoners attitude.  I would have ridden a Brahma bull on a cactus saddle for her.

So, while I reluctantly grant myself very little of the same sense of respect and admiration I would easily have afforded my gran, I still know enough to practice some of the same good cleaning habits.  Not as frequently, nor with as much diligence, but the work gets done (....after a fashion).  Thank you, Grandma Biddle, for a sterling example I still strive to achieve.

The next time you stop by for a read and a smile, you should also find some photos of current projects.  That's my wish, anyway.  Something colorful and soft and quilty.

What are you working on?

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