At some level, all of my crafting is a study on imperfection.  Yet sewing, sewing holds a special place in my heart when it comes to wanting to rip things out and throw them away.

My friends might roll their eyes to hear me tell it (again and again), but I was turned away from a sewing club in middle school because my stitches weren’t straight!  Obviously, I never got over it.  And my stitches STILL aren’t straight.

Luckily (or, more like, through a great deal of effort) I’ve learned to hold more forgiveness for myself in my adult life.  In my most recent project, and what will be the first quilt I’ve ever completed, I’m watching those crooked stitches -not one the same size as it’s neighbor- stretch across the denim like fence posts dotting a pasture.  The fence in question might be a little rickety and wandering, but it’s still a fence, right?

An imperfect photo highlighting my imperfect stitching . . .

In my existential inner life, I fight a constant battle with consuming.  What I previously had a hard time putting to words has recently become clear: when I get the urge to create something, I also immediately want to run to the store.

One day, strolling down some quiet street in JP (I get a lot of thinking done while traveling from one occupation to another), the concept popped into my head fully formed: It’s a battle of creation versus consumption!

And it’s interesting, isn’t it, how consumption disallows creation?  For example, if I want to start a new knitting project, the time it takes to go to the store, purchase the supplies, and then return home completely eats up the time in my day that I would otherwise have spent going through my own (overflowing) supplies and actually getting started.

“But,” you say, “Isn’t it inspiring to wander the isles at the craft store, inspecting the newest inventions in crafty-ness, admiring the skill of yarn/pattern/fabric-makers, etc.?”

Sure it is.  Visiting my local yarn shop -the act of opening the glass door, sniffing the scents of new, clean wool and cottons, flipping the glossy, colorful pages of craft books I’ll never purchase- can get me in the mood to buckle down and create! But I never accomplish this in the actual store. Instead, I arrive home and the laundry calls, the cat wants pets, my partner starts to discuss the latest book he’s been listening to on his iPod, I remember that I need to return my mother’s call. Time continues its incessant flow, and the time I could have put to making something has already joined the river.

So I’ve invoked a creation versus consumption smackdown.  At this time, there is no clear advantage to either side (especially with having two new craft shops opened near my home and work), but I’ll catch you up on how things are progressing!