Thursday, 4 March 2010

I am terrified ....

a mock-up of a fabric keepsake, but the pagination does not thrill me so I will move the tree to the middle page (where the red flowers are) and shift the jug of flowers and the red daisies to the left.

This is not a sob story, though it may seem like one, but I am absolutely terrified of losing my mind. Circumstances since I last produced anything creative have taken such an unexpected turn; nothing as planned running up to the end of 2009 when I had set aside spare time over the first six weeks of 2010 to work on L.K.Ludwig's online painting class. That excitement still awaits me.

For those bloggers who so kindly follow my other blog, I will not re-iterate what I blogged about last night; and for those who want to know what has beset me, most is set out there. Apart from losing our passports, I did not enlarge on the creative hiccup. Who could complain when I was greeted on Christmas morning with a hug from my husband and the instruction to go choose a new sewing machine. Nothing wrong with the one I have ... and I won't touch on dear R's reasoning as to why he wanted me to have a new one. Two months later and I am the proud owner of a sewing/quilting machine that, amongst so many other attributes, has a needle threader and thread tie/cut device (my increasingly arthritic hands can hardly cope with these really simple tasks).

Between selection, ordering and delivery came the clearing out and total re-organisation of my downstairs work-room cum laundry room for somewhere to put and use it, the debacle of all the other hiccups that have happened in 2010 - and the fear of this stupid non-functioning brain. It is hard to describe such bewildering blackness, such fog and, well - nothingness. What is going on? I'm only posting today because despite a marvellous 'artist day out' yesterday, I woke up with a headache and a stinking cold (most unlike me who has survived a sub-zero house all winter and rarely take ill). I worked this morning nevertheless and WILL NOT give in. Life is too precious to waste it by malingering. Should I read the latest copy of 'Cloth Paper Scissors' that arrived this morning? No, I will only depress myself with my lack of creative wit.

So this afternoon, sitting by the fire, out came the notes for an interim project which I had designed as a practice piece to familiarise myself with my new splendid all-singing, all-dancing machine. (That alone is like learning all over again to read and write, to swim, to ride a bicycle, walk on my hands, drive a car and fly an aeroplane; all at once!) I decided I was feeling too under the weather to risk actual stitching so I cut up photocopies of the tiny pics I will use in this project - a concertina, double-sided fabric book; a celebration of my kind of creativity. I made a paper mockup, wrote the poem that is to be part of it, and took photos (above and below) of the planned layout. The background will be a colourful stylised floral furnishing fabric in pinks and oranges, not my usual favoured oatmeal/cream or blue/green colouring. A challenge in more ways than one. Pages hinges and edges in scrim (I think) and pictures tranferred using 'Cool Peel'. Words (page titles) are to be machine-stitched. As for layers and embellishments ...

photocopies of my scanned and reduced-scale artwork have rendered some sketches invisible in this photograph


  1. I'm sorry you are feeling so bad. I'm sure it is just a side-effect of your cold, and feeling so rushed. I hope you feel better soon.

  2. You seem coherent to me.

    Giving and giving and giving depletes us.

    I'm hoping the cold will give you permission to rest and heal.

    Take care of you and nourish your body and spirit.

  3. I hope you feel better soon. I have days of forgetfulness and I'm 38. It's so frustrating when we can't find things or remember things. I can't wait to see what you create with the new sewing machine.

  4. Having read both posts I do understand that you are feeling over-whelmed. This happens to me and I tend to blame it on too much going on in my life, our business, family etc. I think if I could only be let alone to concentrate some things might not be so confusing.
    The sewing machine I bought less than two years ago sounds rather like your new one--far more features than I will ever use, but I wanted the speed and precision which doesn't seem to be available without "bells and whistles." The scope of your creative and artistic ventures continues to inspire and amaze me. So many things I would like to attempt, but perhaps I shall be content with quilting and writing. My two sewing machines, my "stash" of fabric and my PC will have pride of place in the little cottage we are retiring to. The lack of immediate house space [more after some remodeling] will be compensated by the opportunity to garden again.
    I hope you'll find time to continue sharing both the frustrations and the successes of your projects.

  5. Thank you stopping by my blog and taking the time to leave a comment. Reading through your post it sounds as if you need to be kind to yourself-take care.

  6. I love the near blithe tone you use while describing frightening mind lapses with such dear British determination to carry on!
    What, by the way, is Cool Peel? I am also working on a new artist book (also an accordian) and am struggling to find a way to get words on the printmaking paper without reverting to clear labels, stenciling or stamps. Alicia

  7. Sorry to hear you are feeling low. If its any consolation I always feel off key at the change of the seasons. Its like something in my subconscious is confused has not readjusted yet.

    You will get your mojo back soon xJ

  8. I so enjoy your journaling. I become fearful too sometimes of just exactly the same thing. Sometimes I think there are "signs" of the "loosing my mind" thing and it makes me wonder if I will know. Or will it just happen.