Poor studio. Mostly ignored for the past six months except as a place to pile up hopes and dreams. Those were too often disguised as ungainly piles of things.
The stairs were too steep to climb during the worst part of my cancer treatment. Sometimes I would start out filled with hope only to become quickly overwhelmed. There was the day all my energy was burned up sweeping piles of yarn, fabric, and patterns off the cutting and pressing tables and onto the floor. What a mess that was!
All because I had been looking for the ball winder. Of course, it had been right in front of me all along.
I needed to wind yarn for a shawl, for a blanket. I have been working on both of those since. I have also been sorting through my closet, which had become what felt like a bottomless black hole of things that did not fit. I lost 35 pounds during my cancer treatment. My weight has been stable the last six weeks or so, but my dimensions are continuing to shift slightly as I gain energy and do more. I need things to wear. I need to make things also, but there is no point in working too far into the future. Already a pair of pants I purchased in September need to be altered. This process of reaching a new normal will take months; I should not plan or work too far ahead.
This is the pile of things that are currently unwearable but are also workable. It ended up being about a third of the closet contents. It took me nearly a month to try on everything. The process took so long, and was so exhausting that and a few garments, such as the above mentioned pants, started out in the "keep" pile, and eventually moved to alterations pile.
This past week, having finally gone through every drawer and hanger and shelf, having also donated boxes and bags of clothing, it was time for further analysis. The contents of the chair were broken down into three piles:
1. Things that only need simple mending but otherwise work. (3 garments)
2. Things that can be altered or slightly remade into wearable garments.
3. Things to deconstruct and reuse -- things that can be reconstructed into something new.
As you can see, piles 2 and 3 are about equal in size, and may in fact be somewhat fluid. The simple mending pile includes two coats and a sweater. Since it is now coat and sweater season, these will be the first things I tackle; they are also the easiest things to tackle. By the time I get to piles 2 and 3, my perspective may well have evolved.
Already my perspective is evolving. Why give away or donate everything? Even though I have a sizable stash of yarn and fabric, why give away clothes that no longer work when they can be made into something else? Just because I purchased an expensive garment and wore it twice, why should I donate it? Is the silk worth using for something else? Why discard the worn? Why not mend? I already have too much to actually suffer from living with less, but is there any reason I actually need more? There are no real answers to these questions other than to wait, to play, to see what evolves.
In the meantime I have started on one simple mending/refinishing project. This was not in the stacks above, but already in my stash. I finished this sweater in April, after it was too warm to wear it. But I did not like the way the front edges curled and felt it needed more stabilization. I spend occasional time over the summer thinking about what I would do, but never actually getting started.
Now, I am ready. Now my fingers are ready (almost) to hold a needle and sew in a petersham band along the inside front edge. I actually don't know how this is going to work out, but it is worth a try. My fingers still struggle with holding the fine needle, but each day I can sew a little more. I always loved handwork and still do, even if I have grown slower and slower.
I will be back as studio time progresses. 2021 has not gone as hoped. 2022 may not either. It is not the speed of accomplishment that matters, rather the fact that work, that play, that the urge to make remains.
Process, always, over product. . . but isn't it interesting or surprising, even, how often we must learn this lesson?
Personally, I'd say you've demonstrated courage, wisdom, and fortitude -- at the very least -- this past year, and it's good to see you being to shift into a mode where you can afford to look forward and make plans for mending and making and remaking. . . .
All kinds of metaphors there, no?
Posted by: Frances Sprout | November 22, 2021 at 01:57 PM