Not Feeling The Love

I threw some of the Gizzy blocks up on the design wall and was not particularly inspired.

I tried arranging them so there was a color flow, but it just wasn't doing anything for me.

As you can see I have plenty of blocks...

but they just don't seem to be coming together in a way that excites me.

 The fabrics are too dark and the colors just aren't bright enough.

I suppose I'll tinker with this for another day, but I'm just not seeing any good possibilities. I suppose I could cut them apart and make slabs, but still, there are far too many darks, too many browns, and not enough bright happy colors to end up being something I WANT to work on or something I WANT to own.

So these blocks might just go back into a box and head out to the nearest quilt group that makes donation quilts. Somebody else might see magic where I just see blah.

WHY, do you ask, am I "giving up" so easily?  Because I can see the end, and it just isn't worth it. Yes, I COULD make something that would be OK, but I'd be miserable doing it, and that's not a good use of my time. These blocks do not feed me in any positive way. They drain me. So they have to go.

Sometimes you have to make an Executive Decision, and it looks like I've just made one.  I'll find something else to do that lifts my spirits. It's not like I don't have enough fabric...

Mo' Blah

Christmas used to be my favorite time of the year. I loved the planning, the decorations, the baking,  the decorating, the shopping (well, sort of), the wrapping, the whole surprise of the thing.

Note I said "used to be." 

Why the change? For one thing, as an empty-nester, it means your heart is far away. (Mine lives in California.) Kids love Christmas, but with no kids, it's a bit hard to get excited, or even get stuff done. I used to have a large artificial Christmas tree, but as I got older, I couldn't get it out of the basement by myself. Then it got to be a lot of work just to put it together, and let me tell you, trying to decorate an 8 foot tall tree by yourself is a real feat. Waiting until you can get some help isn't always fun. Asking for help is less fun. When it's viewed as a chore, it stops being fun altogether.

So the big Christmas tree went away, and I trimmed down my vast collection of ornaments and decorations. Nobody ever comes to my house to celebrate Christmas. It's always at my Mom's house (and she doesn't have a tree, which bugs me.) Why not Christmas at my house? I cook for Thanksgiving, so everybody comes here for that.

With the arthritis in my back significantly affecting my movement, I've put on a bit of weight, so I certainly don't need the temptation of freshly baked cookies.

With more and more gifts becoming small squares of plastic, shopping (online or otherwise) is not as exciting. And with more of my favorite people scattered across the country, Christmas presents get wrapped up and mailed, and I don't get to enjoy watching the recipient open the gift and see the reaction. (If you think I'm nuts, make yourself a cup of coffee and READ THIS STORY.)

(and if you want to know why a chinese food takeout box is wrapped in ribbon and is a traditional Christmas tree ornament at my house, you HAVE to read that story.)


All of this is a roundabout way of saying I'm having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit. I ordered a small 36" pre-lit tree on line, and it will be in by the end of the week (I hope). I've bought a couple of poinsettias and dug out some Holiday decorations and hung the Christmas stockings.

There are many more things I HAVE to do, and I don't feel like I've got enough time to enjoy it. This year it seems more like a chore than anything.  So last night when I got home from work, I picked up "The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon," one of the Number One Ladies Detective Agency books, sat down and read.

I love this series.  There's no violence, and everything always ends well. I love the characters, the people, the sense of place. The books are soothing and life-affirming. I love them so much, that when I get a new book, I try to read one chapter a day, so I can prolong the pleasure. 

Last night, after I finished my chapter, I didn't put the book down. I kept reading. I read until I finished the book.  I felt much better about everything. I had set aside the HAVE TO's and substituted the NOURISH MYSELF.

Which was interesting, because rummaging through a drawer on Sunday while looking for a battery, I came across an old newspaper article on getting through the Holiday season. Here, in a nutshell, is what it said:

Step One: Make a Plan.

Step Two: Cut it in half.

I feel better. Maybe I'm still not "feeling it," but at least now I'm not going to let it bother me.

Low Volume, Low Key, Low Interest

For me most "low volume" quilts are so laid-back they're comatose.  There. I said it.  If you don't like it, I say (as the French do) "Tant pis."

To each his own poison. If it works for you, fine, but working with my "low volume" (or as I prefer to call them "low key") letters bores me to tears. In fact, they bore me so much, I'm not even going to fix that "a" in "Crayons."

(I sewed these two letters on the wrong seam and got "NO" instead of "ON". Sigh)

What I AM GOING TO DO, however, is have some fun with this.  I deliberately selected these fabrics because I wanted a snoozefest (Now there's a contradiction in terms!) The next version will be slightly snappier. The version after that will be somewhat more energetic, and so on, until the last version will be a real riot of over the top noise.

Heh!

I can't wait!


(Have I ever told you I think all artists are subversive by nature?)