It's About Time - Getting Satisfaction

I did a lot of thinking after I posted that last entry.  Mostly about how much I self-edited, removing things I felt deeply but was fearful of putting out there in the world because depression is - and seemingly always will be - a taboo subject.  There are some great tweets about that attitude -

I figured out why I am so vibrantly aware of things these days - I'm running out of time.  I have more of my life behind me than I do ahead of me and while I'm good with that (honest!) I've got this whole stupid list of things to do "later", when I get the money, when I will be able to enjoy it, when I have the time (as if!) or some other BS rationalization.  It's time to do it now.  Money will always be a prohibitive factor, but the lovely silks I've been collecting for years are going to get CUT UP and made into a wonderful wall piece.  The beautiful Moda French General hexagons I painstakingly pieced and hand sewn are no longer in the "when I think of what I want to do with them" pile because I cut and bound them and they now look wonderful on various coffee tables in my family room.  My treasured damask and vintage linens are being used on my dining room and kitchen tables and YES I SAID THAT are getting food spilled on them and thrown in the washer and used again and again and I love it. 

I recently made 2 table runners as gifts for the newlywed children of friends. I did the registry gift thing for their bridal showers, but this time I felt like I wanted them to have something more meaningful - well, meaningful to me anyway. Both brides are mature, free spirited women who know themselves well.
I heartily regret machine quilting these runners with variegated thread - while it seemed inspired and dashing at the time, every sin you make with variegated thread screams. I backstitch to anchor starting and stopping points and damn if every time I did it the color of the thread would change just enough to look like a schmeariblik. Once I was on a pale yellow stretch of fabric when the thread turned a dark violet and MAN was that way too much contrast - it looked like I took a Sharpie pen and drew lines, for Pete's sake. This is not to say that I haven't done just that - I have a large and colorful collection of narrow Sharpie pens just for a similar  purpose. I touch up those areas when a bit of white thread pops up out of nowhere, a rogue bobbin thread that doesn't exactly match needs come camouflage - that kind of thing.

I now spend evenings embroidering wool felt ornaments that I consign to a nearby quilt museum. I love those things - each one a little creation that will go live in house of someone I'll never meet.  I used to keep track of where my Mother's quilted runners and wall hangings went when we sold them in my husband's shop. She loved hearing about the ones that went to London or Italy or Germany or Pennsylvania. Now I understand why.  Putting pretty little bits of yourself out there in the universe is a very satisfying use of time. I want my time now to be filled with more of that, whether it is making something or reading something or any one of a myriad of other things that are satisfying.  Time is much more my friend now than ever before, and all because I've been learning to use more of it to satisfy myself.