Back in the busier days of December, I knew that I would have a stretch of unstructured time in January. How would I fill the time? I dreamed of writing poems, maybe making a few submissions. I knew I would fill some of the time with reading. I thought it was likely I would do some quilting, since it was the activity I turned to in December as I had "free" time.
For much of yesterday, I spent my time sewing small scraps together into larger squares.
I'm using scraps that I would ordinarily have thrown away as too small to continue creating with them. It's an interesting continuation of a process I started at Thanksgiving. At first, I was creating a log cabin pattern, but now I'm open to other possibilities. At first, I wanted to pay no attention to color, but now I let myself do that. Some squares will be created because I had fabric that fit the shape, and some because I cut fabric that would match the surrounding pieces.
The goal, however, remains to end with a square of roughly 12 inches.
As I have stitched, listening to NPR or podcasts or watching a movie for free on Amazon (The Devil Wears Prada, which I loved when it first came out, but now I find myself cringing for several reasons: toxic workplace, young writer abandoning her ideals, young workers set up to fail). Part of me feels guilty--shouldn't I be doing something more productive? I have more quilts than someone living in an age of global warming will ever need.
But it's creative and it's calming and I'm enjoying it. I know that it won't always be this way; I won't always have time/interest/motivation/space. Decades of creative life have taught me that when I am feeling pulled into a creative activity, I should follow that impulse. There will be plenty of days to come when I will look at my fabric piles and shrug. Now my fingers itch to sew.
I have plans to go to a museum or two, but yesterday I decided to stay put because it was supposed to rain buckets. I have written a poem and made a submission. I'm not passing up on money-making opportunities to sit and sew. I'm not neglecting my responsibilities. Yet still this sense of guilt nips at me.
I'm ignoring that nip of guilt. I need to create 30 squares for the quilt top that I have in mind. Let me sew scraps together, while I can.
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