Bipolar Disorder, Everyday Life, recovery, Uncategorized

Sewing (and life) 101

black dslr camera filming a woman in front of sewing machine
Photo by Gustavo Fring on Pexels.com

I have been sewing (on and off) for years, like 20.  I have been a very import pin holder and finder for much longer 😊

I fondly recall being young and helping my mom make medieval cone shaped princess hats.  I took such pride in my crocked stitching and slightly ripped fabric.  I did my best and as time progressed my skills improved.  Sitting beside my mom, wow, that inspired me.  I would watch her use that sewing machine like it was on a racetrack and I was in awe.  Not only was I spending quality time with my mom, but I was learning.

I always wanted to be like my mom (in more ways than one), but this made me want to be like her even more.  She made clothes out of fabric, how frickin amazing is that?  She made ME clothes, AND I actually liked them! ~  Taking something that was flat (the fabric) and making it into a 3D creation just blew my mind. (She made my junior prom dress, it was one from the Titanic, needless to say it was spectacular and no one in sight had a dress like mine)

I spent years being fascinated by the craft of sewing, all that you could do with fabric, thread, and needles.  The creating and designing, be still my pounding heart.

Due to the amazingness of the craft, I used to and still do, feel quite intimidated when it comes to sewing.  What if I attempt to make an apron and I sew it shut and it looks like a potato sack?  Or the thing I do often, put the wrong side, or is it the right sides, or one right and one wrong side together and then you flip it inside out and it is just f’d up.  My fears of failure set in and it has prevented me from creating.

Speaking of aprons, a year or so ago I bought a pattern to make one.  Do you want to know where that pattern is?  Still sealed in the original packaging.  I could not bring myself to start the project for fear of failure.  This nasty fear is really keeping me in place in my boots and it is starting to really tick me off.

Jump ahead to today.  It has been weeks, quite the amount of mulla spent, and I am cranking out masks to be worn when out in pubic for those that feel that is what they need to do.  I am enjoying the process.  My favorite part is matching the fabrics and then the ribbons.  I like to get creative and add in the shabby chic style and I love it, not sure anyone else will but I do.

A challenge has been the relationship I share with my sewing machine.  Its one of those, it is not you, it is me things.  I have yet to read the manual and am just flying by the seat of my pants.  This can be dangerous.  I have ripped out countless stitch patterns because I have a tension wrong or a bobbin in upside side.

When I am sewing, I have my head down.  I have a light illuminating the machine.  I am watching the needle closely to ensure that I do not puncture my finger (did that back in middle school and that hurt like a belly button piercing).

This morning, I was having a problem with the feet pushing/feeding the fabric past the needle.  The needle kept whining like a little bumble bee.  The bobbin was getting all wrapped up in itself like a self-conceited princess.

I was fighting and fighting, slamming the table, throwing out curse words, so much so that the cats left their sleeping positions on the craft room floor.  I was thinking about if I throw the machine out the window it would shatter, there would be glass everywhere, and I would have to clean it up.  There is nothing I hate worse than cleaning up my own messes.  So that option was out the window (figuratively, not literally).  Plus, the machine was a gift and I just cannot hurt it, although I am beyond irritated.

I took a second and I looked up.  The loopy arm, coming down thing was not threaded.  THIS was the reason I was having so many issues.  Had I only stopped what I was doing, the staring down at the needly part of the machine and looked UP at the rest of the machine, I might not have sore fists right now from slamming the table in anger.

This made me think.  Figuratively, how often do I get so focused looking at my toes that I end up walking into a pole?  What do I need to do in order to help myself start to look up?  To stop being so narrowly focused that I lose sight of what is in front of me.  If I were to pan out and look a little bit more in a wide-angle kind of a way what difference would I see?

It is amazing to me where lessons hide.

 

2 thoughts on “Sewing (and life) 101”

  1. Mu youngest daughter has taught me when confronted with a problem with something like a sewing machine to start with the simplest thing first. Example: See if it is plugged in. She says just stop and look everything over. I am doing better since I started following her advice.

    Liked by 1 person

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