New Passions from Old Failures

So, I now started getting into embroidery. It has been something I wanted to pick up for a long time. From past knowledge, I decided to start with something small, just to get my feet wet. I also wanted it to be functional, so that I would finish it. I wanted to make a purse that would fit just the basics, not too small and not too big. This black pouch I love has been my soul daily possession and I am wearing it out, but it was too small to just carry it alone and I always had things in my hand, keys, phone and notes.

Er go, my project was under way. I had some all natural embroidery floss that I ordered on Etsy from a failed attempt at creating a hand made rug. Ummmm...let's not go there. And I had some leftover gold floss from Christmas stockings I made (yes embroidered, but I don't count them because it was a pattern and I mean exactly everything like paint by numbers). This new endeavor consisted of my own plan, design and construction with no help from anywhere. I had some canvas from some failed grocery bags I made a couple months ago(sitting in the bottom of my closet), and some cute feed sack fabric from a quilt that I cut the squares for and produced no quilt. See where I am going? I felt just as confident in my completing this project as I have had thousands of others. I have a wasteland of carnage tucked in drawers and closets from abandoned projects that lay lifeless and alien in form. This project felt right and doable. I have a way of stirring up this incredible passion for creating something marvelous and instead of obtaining the beginner version, I go for the super advanced, 20-years-experience-needed, severely complicated, mega-creation. Then, I wonder where I went wrong. You see, I don't possess any lack of talent or go-to-it-iveness. I lack follow through, yet it is not because I am lazy or get particularly bored with it. It is because I am so over my head I become confused and feel I need to "take a break" from it. Then fear sets in with getting started again and I panic, feeling if I start I will have that same sense of confusion. I still feel like the grocery bags are a great idea to complete, if only I could have made the reversible with pockets come out right some how.

Well, I began creating the purse on a Saturday, which was a good choice because I had time to workout the idea in my head for two days while constructing. Once, I got past the first embroidered side, I was hooked. Wow, instant gratification. I could see the beauty with every stitch. I wish I had photographed all along the way, how the pattern developed out of no where and sprouted into something really feminine. I was in a zone and really understood zen at that moment. I felt really proud. I have made a lot of things in my day, but the sense of gratification with embroidery is truly new. I knew then, intuitively, I would not be able to stop.

But the work bell chimed and I needed to get back to what paid the grocery bill. I put it down and went back to work, but I thought about it. I carried my phone in hand and my little pouch on my hip and wished I had finished, because oh I needed that little purse so badly. I decided to make an additional inside pouch just for my keys, so I wouldnt have to root around in the center. GREAT!! I got home and got right to work. Instead of cooking dinner, I treated the boys to some delicious frozen lasagna and they were pleased as punch. Well, I couldn't resist. Once I got the front pocket complete, I had to try the little iPhone in it and see if it liked it's new home. It was remarkably cozy! Yay! That was it, I would not go to bed without finishing it. I was not going to torture myself another day without having the right sized purse to carry to work.

I stayed up and embroidered and sewed and cut and stitched. Once I was finished with the main body, I agonized over the handle. I remembered those grocery bags. Their handles looked, well, mangled. I had a tough time turning them right side in after sewing them an so just left them half in and half out and sewed them down like that. Ugh! Mistake! I painstakingly ironed the handle just as I wanted it to look BEFORE sewing and decided to just hand stitch it just like that. Perfect. Then I attached it to the body of the purse. Voila! I walked around the house at 2am looking at my reflection in the windows. It was a really smart purse. But now what to do with all those credit cards and license that would be thrown around in there. I sat down at the table again and fashioned a little wallet that fit exactly. Ah! That felt soo good. That dismembered quilt upstairs was probably green with envy wondering why I didnt stay up all night stitching each of it's squares together. What was so special about this little purse. I didn't really know, but it made me feel that all my failures meant something. Now I had something made by my own hand that made me feel....? Hmmm...let me think. It made me feel just like I felt the day my son was born. It was hard work, but I knew the purpose and once I was finished I could see how remarkable it was and how much this birth would make me happy each day by just being born. No matter what demise befell in the past, this new little prize was worth the wait and the labor(pardon my pun).




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