Create

I love to make stuff. This passion is juxtaposed with a lack of prowess in the hand-eye coordination department and a general lack of innate crafting talent, unless you count the arrangement of elements on an old-fashioned scrapbook page. I can follow simple directions, and generally stay with projects that a child could do. I enjoy cross stitching because making X's with thread is relatively straightforward. I was looking at diamond art pictures with joy in my heart recently. Why not just buy a picture? Well, there is something supremely satisfying to me about having made something. It's tough for me to explain. Even if the craft employs no skill, like the many, many latch hook rugs I have made, I get a huge bang out of having made the picture myself. It would not be in the world were it not for my effort.

I included a picture of my embroidery scissors (see above). I  had used them for cross stitch, but dulled them cutting needlepoint yarn recently. I wanted to learn that needlecraft, and, after watching a youtube video, set about making my first couple of stitches on a small piece. I discovered that I should have stretched the needlepoint canvas and abandoned my effort because I didn't have the right tools for doing that. The scissors were a casualty. I have found, however, that I can still use them for the easy cross stitch kit I am currently working on; a 10 count (holes can be seen from outer space, a three-year-old could do it) picture of a mother and baby panda using thicker wool thread. The scissors symbolize my drive to learn something new in the New Year. I'll get at least two needlepoint pictures done. They made my 2018 goal list, and neither flood, famine, earthquake or pestilence will keep me from them.

I asked my husband recently why I seem to really want to do something that I am terrible at (needlework). I told him that my box of cross stitch kits yet to be done depressed me. "I am horribly slow! I have all of those beautiful projects in that box...I'll never get them done," I lamented. "Are you on a timeline," he asked. No, no I am not. I simply want to spin the gorgeous pictures out one directly after the other and, in the process, I'm not really much enjoying the journey. Remember the fable about the race between the tortoise and the hare? I am the tortoise, only the finish line yields only a handful of small completed projects every year. Sigh. My husband seemed to think the key lies in not buying any more kits. At all. Ok. I guess I can TRY to do that (I bought one this morning).

There is no profoundly inspirational punchline today. I'm just reflecting on my motives and shining a flashlight on an area of my life that gets a lot of my time. I'm tweaking it aloud, as it were. I've always admired people who attempted things beyond their skill level, but I don't give myself that same grace. For whatever reason, writing has always come fairly easy to me, so I'll make that the pursuit that gobbles up the majority of my time. But I cannot, I will not, give up crafting! Perhaps the key lies, as with most elements of life, in the elusive concept of balance. Stop buying and hoarding. Start doing. Stay with projects to the finish line. Do the crafts you enjoy. This is not your job, this is a way to unplug from the stresses of life! If no one latch hooks anymore, SO WHAT! So. What. You do, Laurie! (Pardon the pep talk with myself.) Accept your limitations. They are as much a part of your individuality as your talents are, and help in lighting the correct path for your days!

All of you ladies who excel at needlework: do not take your gifts for granted. They are truly gifts! All of you who love childish crafts (like me), exult! Rejoice! Make your Quilt-Magic creations and enjoy your adult coloring books! You'll spend less on shrinks and counselors! You'll invest more of your time in the specific work you were individually called by God to do. It's all good. It's all good.