Everybody has “that thing” that they procrastinate doing for
as long as they can. Admit it. You know you have one. It could be cleaning out the basement, or
going to the dentist, or doing your taxes.
We avoid it at all costs. We feed
it with excuses until it becomes the giant elephant in the room that we’d
rather paper train and take for a walk than actually address the dreaded task. My elephant was a craft project.
The lovely ladies at Modern Makers invited the Bombshells to
create an installation for a fiber based exhibit. I didn't know much more beyond the invite,
but was excited by the prospect of working with other great artists on something
that was sure to be fun. I pictured our
yarn filled hi-jinks and camaraderie. I thought,
“I’m a Bombshell. We knit. I’m a bad ass knitter. I got this.” Then I found myself staring down
the barrel of a metaphorical gun loaded with embroidery floss.
The beginning’s a bit of a blur now. I think I may have blocked out parts of
it. I remember staring blankly at the
piles of fabrics, embroidery hoops, and printed instructions on the floor at
Pinky’s house. I think I was actually
trying to figure out where the yarn hi-jinks were hidden while simultaneously
trying to squelch the rising panic I felt at the back of my throat. I quickly grabbed two pieces and high tailed
it home so I could process the complexity of what I’d committed myself to. I told myself, “Kitty, you’re a domestic
goddess. You can do this.” I could
totally fake my way through this, right?
Right?!
Over the next few weeks I watched every YouTube video
demonstrating embroidery, French knots (Damn you, French knots!) and hand tying
quilts I could find. I bought water soluble
markers and floss. I did not, however,
make a single stitch. I stared at my
pile of craft supplies willing it to complete itself. I was frustrated. I was afraid of letting down the
Bombshells. This girl was most
definitely out of her depth. When I
could avoid it no more, I finally picked up my hoop and began my
embroidery. I tortured myself over which
stitches to use. I tore out my work and
started over so many times I lost count.
I fantasized about burning it all in a pile in my backyard and dancing
around the flames in victory over this project from Hell. My Waterloo.
My elephant. Then, I worried
about what the neighbors would think and realized I didn't want to go to the trouble of buying another embroidery hoop, so that was
totally out.
Then, something unexpected happened. My outlook shifted after a few difficult days of stitching. Maybe it was craft
induced Stockholm Syndrome or maybe I just found my Zen. My mantra changed from “I hate this. I hate this.
I hate this.” to “Hey, this doesn't look half bad.” to “This is kind of
fun.” I somehow managed to get my pieces
done by the deadline to install our work for the art opening. I was relieved to be done and eager to drop
it off. I walked into the Modern Makers gallery
and stopped dead in my tracks. Many of
the other Bombshell pieces were already assembled and hanging on a wall. I was speechless for a full minute (And,
believe me, that’s a long time for this girl to be quiet). Each of our pieces perfectly flowed into the
next. We created a beautiful tactile art
installation for the blind. I knew one
of my pieces had a word in script and in Braille that I embroidered. I just never imagined it would all look so
gorgeous. I ran my fingers over each
fabric filled hoop marveling at the delicate work everyone had done. I finally saw the bigger picture and understood
the painstaking work was all worth it.
My lesson was a humbling one.
It’s important to remind ourselves that sometimes we lack
perspective. That the little thing we so
desperately avoid because we don’t like it, we’re afraid, or we just don’t want
to deal with it, isn't nearly as bad as we let it become by trying to ignore
it. To sum it up, quit your bitching and
just get it done. You might be
pleasantly surprised by the result.
Until next time…
Hugs & Stitches,
Kitty Knitter
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