May 2010

Random picture of an Alpaca getting naked:

But what I really wanted to say is, I feel great.  I feel like a naked alpaca with the breeze on my skin.  I spent six hours today in a really – intense, there is no other word – cutting session.  Having said that, I should mention for the sake of all the people who will now be misdirected by search engines that I mean cutting  fabric, not subcultural blood-letting.  Interesting as that may be, I’m only going to talk about costuming.  Sorry.

I am working on a dress for Jekyll & Hyde and it is somewhat complicated because that is the way I drew it on Saturday when I was doing sketches, and I got it all plotted out and all the pieces cut and rather a lot of assembly done, and I’ve had a lot of coffee and only a little sleep and it’s all going so amazingly well that I had to stop and dance on the front porch for a while to burn off energy.  It is good to feel this good.  It is good to remember that I can feel this good.

See, I’m shooting here for something that looks light and breezy, something that looks simple even though it isn’t remotely.  Also it would be nice if the actress can get into it quickly and be something like comfortable because she’s got to wear it for a couple of scenes.  All of this so far seems to be working.  I’m speculating whether I can accomplish anything more today before the “no sewing after midnight” rule kicks in.  It’s iffy, all the straightforward stuff is out of the way.

I’m still pretty wired though, and haven’t got much in the way of a functioning vocabulary.  So I’m just gonna leave you with another alpaca because tell me this picture isn’t simply awesome:



Why do I always feel like I should be doing something else? If I’m painting I should be sewing, if I’m sewing I should be carding wool, if I’m spinning I should be blogging (spinning is when I think of all kinds of stuff I want to tell you guys, most of which I promptly forget about as soon as I get near a computer) if I’m dyeing I should be cleaning the house or washing wool, and if I’m knitting I should be doing just about anything else. The only time I can really get away with guilt-free knitting is if Raven has the TV on.

What the heck is this about? I have been trying to figure it out for ages, and while I have formulated some theories I don’t know if any are correct. Or maybe they all are. I know that my finished object to WIP ratio is bizarrely low, because I am the poster child for process orientation and I have the attention span of a small rodent when it comes to repeating any action or process that I thouroughly understand. I do have a boatload of guilt about the number of UFOs I have – but why? I don’t need these things, I only needed to figure them out. Which I have done.

It’s not as if I spend a lot of money on my crafts either. I build a lot of my own tools, I make do with salvaged or broken items. I work with found objects, and an exhaustive study of my crafting history would demonstrate that since I learned to sew at the age of five I have been moving further and ever further backward, always pursuing and fascinated by the step that comes before the thing I already know how to do.  At this point, the natural conclusion of my life should be that when I die I will be placed in an elaborate coffin of my own construction, hand carved by me and painted in hand ground pigments (egg based, naturally) and lined with hand spun, hand woven and naturally dyed wool.  In a perfect world said coffin would be burned on a pyre of wood cut from a tree I planted, while my friends danced around drinking beer and mead that I brewed.  It will be fun; you should come.  If I have enough warning, I will make paper and print invitations.  There will be door prizes.

Now, in the course of posting this, WordPress has managed to lose the latter half of it, and I have really no idea what I said.  I know the point was, that I would like to stop feeling bad about the things that make me feel good.  This is, after all, my life.  I know that I am never going to make any “significant” mark on the world, but that is ok because nothing I have ever done or ever wanted to do is particularly “significant” so that is not a problem for me.

Does anyone else experience this?  What, if anything, do you do about it if so?  Please, discuss.  In the meantime, I’ll get started on those invitations, as soon as I make Raven a frock coat, which I am going to start as soon as this collage is out of the way, and I will be finishing that right after I dye the yarn that I am currently carding wool for the spinning of.  Unless I just throw in the towel and go knit something.