|
This is not a pattern. These are shapes. |
I am all over the place. Depending on the outside temperature I find that during the shoulder season I need something to work on in different rooms of the house. On cool days the upstairs sewing room is best. I'm cutting in to an old, hurt quilt and making a teddy bear. I had to find a new pattern because while I saved the directions and the pattern envelope from my old (and I do mean old) pattern, the pattern itself went missing. I love a crisp, new pattern. I cut it apart with pinking shears, too dull to use on fabric but perfect for that light tissue that real patterns are printed on.Then I indulged in the ritual 'ironing of the pattern' where you lightly press the fold and crease marks out so when you place it on the fabric it lies perfectly flat. I started sewing the pattern pieces together without consulting the directions. I was using a REAL pattern, and the markings and information
on the pattern pieces made that possible.
|
THIS IS A PATTERN |
Well that, and because I learned how to sew from using real patterns back in the day when Home Ec was mandatory for 7th grade girls. I still think it should be mandatory - for boys and girls. Why not learn to sew? Cook a meal? Banking, growing plants, living with a budget. Do a load of laundry without ruining the works. How to paint a wall. How to wield a cutting brush. Life skills, baby, I'm talking about basic. life. skills. Back to the bear - I started watching an old movie on the VHS in my sewing room (man, I am a dinosaur) and clipped and darted and notched my way thought more than half of the bear before I called it quits for the night. (Okay there is a DVD player in there too, just sayin'.) I love old movies. I love REAL patterns. They are a marvel of engineering. How else would you get such elegant curves and shapes and forms?
|
NOT BLUE |
If it's too hot for the sewing room I work on the main floor in the family room, paper piecing. I'm working on making a new purse and I loved my Japanese big bag so much I'm doing a smaller version, but NOT IN BLUE, MOM (if you're reading this in heaven and you probably are because I hear you yell at me every time I sew over pins.) I went WAY out of my color comfort zone and am doing this in shades of purple, mainly because it's already in my stash and I'm not getting any younger. I am photographing the hexie layout on my ironing board so I can work from the picture when I go downstairs to sew it together. (Easy to consult the iPad and double check the layout.) I'm also using straw needles and YLI silk thread to join them - double thread, because it's a purse. Even with interfacing and future layers, I want it sturdy. I must say, silk thread is the most unbelievably EASY thing to sew with, once you face the fact that properly knotting it is never going to happen. Even a quilters knot slid down the length of it tends to just melt apart. Oh silk, you are so...silky. It's very therapeutic to hand sew in the evening, I find I sleep better when I'm thus tranquilized. As long as I manage to leave my iPad alone and not read email, Twitter and other assorted addictions (okay ANGRY BIRDS) I have a productive evening with beautiful results.
Sewing used to be my reward. I work multiple jobs and it involves a LOT of juggling. I say "used to be a reward" because I've realized lately that it is something I MUST do. I'm happier, more aware of color and texture in my personal and professional lives (I work with art groups) and it
opens up my head. When I was commuting to Lowell every day I used to sing in the car. I'm sure people wondered what the hell I was singing that took so much air and effort (usually something from Handel's Messiah or another choral work...) but it had the same effect. While it did cut down my road rage, I will confess to changing the words to an expletive when someone cut me off or changed lanes in front of me too abruptly. It also made me laugh hysterically - you need to sing "motherf)($&#(er" in full soprano head voice to get the full effect. Regardless of the word usage, when you get it really going and flowing it spirals up and creates a kind of harmonic buzz in your head. You get a little bit....high. At least I do. Music and art are the gifts that let us glimpse at the Paradise Lost - the world we were supposed to be living in, and not the one mankind has created.
I love autumn, it's my favorite season. It's good for inner reflection, taking inventory of life and time left. Hand sewing provides the opportunity to think back, remember, and relive wonderful memories. I am more awake - is that possible? I'm conscious of counting my days, wanting them to be full and filled with the glories of creation, the people I love and excellent football. Not every day will be so burnished and successful, but I'm working on it with the hope that it helps me through the days that are.......well, not so much.
What was any art but a mold in which to imprison for a
moment the shining elusive element which is life itself - life hurrying past us
and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.
Willa Cather