I sew because I like to create. I also like the immediate gratification that sewing brings, since most projects can be completed with relative stealth, compared to knitting or crocheting, for example. This fact says a lot about me, I think. I am learning to be a more patient person, one who appreciates the process as much (if not more) than the results. But patience is a process in and of itself.
I had intended to write about how my need for the immediate gratification of sewing mirrors my impatience. But instead, I really think it comes down to this: If I can have that immediate gratification somewhere, then I can be more patient in other areas of my life.
I still like to knit, crochet and, more recently, wield the embroidery floss. (There are some great embroidery patterns out there that are more rockabilly than granny.) But I gravitate toward those as a means to slow down--rather than to accomplish something. I have many unfinished yarn projects. This doesn't bother me. Knitting and crochet allow me to leave some things unfinished. Sewing enables me to stitch everything up nice and tight.
In other words, sewing = control and accomplishment; yarn stuffage = acceptance and loose ends.
I have been sewing a lot this week.
Meanwhile, my house has gone to hell. With the kids away with their father this week, Ian and I have blissfully taken ourselves off the domestic track. He finally picked up groceries last night, so we have more to eat than just some cheese and a few rotten grapes. And tonight is a big chore night for me. The boys will be home after dinner tomorrow. Therefore things must become orderly so that they can once again be disrupted.
I miss my little boys. I miss them a lot. Considering they only spend about one night a week (or even every two weeks) with their dad, an entire week without them is a bit of a shock. My routine is thrown off. I'm forgetting things in the morning (coffee, my phone) on my way to work. I have moments of total silence and boredom. This is GOOD! Believe me. I need this. I need to just *be* while the boys are gone. But I'm ready for them to come home. The house has been very, very quiet. The dogs are confused. I miss their little arms and big hugs. I miss their smiles and laughter and silly jokes. I miss running around the yard, tossing one kind of ball or another with both of them. I haven't been able to sit still since they've gone away. I've been walking, running, doing yoga--constant movement. It keeps me sane.
But at the sewing machine I am still. Lost in creative thought. Lost in an artful process that yields something useful and beautiful within minutes. Something I can dream up--and complete. And enjoy. Or even give away.