Tag Archives: about me and whatnot

makin’ stuff

I come from a short line of people who make things.

*HEY, man, line starts behind me!*

Yes, it’s a very short line.  My people are not really too much into being crafty.  They will make money, or they make the world’s happiest cows (come from Wisconsin) make milk for money, and somehow a stray chromosome from lala land will have one interested in making cards over here or stacking a picturesque wood pile over there.  However, I have never gotten the sense that there is a creative fire roaring to leap forth by any means possible.

That brings me to my message: learnin’ ya how ta make things ya’self sometimes does not lead to technical genius being laid down.  That inferno within has found an outlet in sosososo many ways over the years (and I will helpfully list them for you right here:

  • knitting (but not crochet because my creative-genius brain just can’t get right with that $hit)
  • sewing
  • embroidery, especially on pillowcases
  • cross-stitch
  • tatting
  • painting
  • drawing
  • collage and mixed media
  • singing
  • making large, large stashes of yarn and fabric for a just-in-case-of-apocalypse-or-emergency-castonitis…um…emergency
  • writing
  • weaving
  • spinning
  • cooking and baking
  • gardening
  • home interiors (anyone else getting bored?)
  • beading and other jewelry
  • braiding other people’s hair

aannnnd that’s enough.  Don’t wanna spoil all the surprises!).  

Sadly, the inspiration frequently comes looking like a feral hobo dragging a remnant of all-the-pretties 100% polyester leisure-suit fabric from Walmart that bit me in my ass while was walking by and promised me all the noodling around pretending to make a dress fit for a very-much-not-mom-of-3-whose-belly-has-seen-better-days princess if only I would buy him a spool of thread and a 5-yard cut of heavy duty canvas to go with it.  Needless to say, the feral hobos usually fall down on the job of being the brains of the creative outlet. I’ve come to a point in my life that I just want to wear the expertly-tailored princess dress and have it look like it was made to highlight my flaws hot mom bod, dammit, and I think that means working a little toward the “taught” end of the phrase instead of always shoving that snooty “self-” in front.

So, here I go.  I will continue to make things while I also continue to make me (oh, yeah, we haven’t yet gotten into the PTSD-trauma-mental-breakdown shiznit…), but I’m gonna do it with purpose instead of just cobbling a solution.  They sell these things called books nowadays that have fancy learning right up in ’em, AND some true geniuses (geni-i?) have even done some ‘splainin’ on the interwebs with fancy moving pit-chures about a variety of techniques.  Gonna git me some of that. I will be mindfully moving forward so that I receive a satisfying end product without the bad taste in my mouth that tells me that I really didn’t make the effort or reign in my impatience because I’m still not entirely certain that I’m worth it.

Are you interested in joining me?