As I mentioned in my last post, summer is not a good time for me. This summer, my usual slothfulness has been exacerbated by my ongoing attempt to tidy and sort my workroom. I'm determined to jettison all that Stuff we collect, that isn't really what we like to do. I am not a polymer clay person, and I probably won't ever play with that material again, so why do I have a whole half shelf of a cupboard devoted to polymer clay materials? It might seem like good sense; if I ever do want to do things with polymer clay, I'll have everything I need. But what if I can't work efficiently at the things I like to do, because there just isn't space to put everything away neatly at the end, so I can work on something else? Keeping stuff I don't use becomes a whole lot like hoarding, doesn't it? I have friends who can use that Stuff, so it's going to leave my house.
Obviously, while my workroom is in turmoil and every surface is covered with Stuff, I can't really spend much time painting fabric or sewing on the machine. (Or even walking on the floor of the room).
So I did my annual audit of orphan blocks. Every quilter has them, I'm sure. Well, OK, there are those rare people who know exactly how many blocks they need for their quilt, and in exactly what colours they should be, and that's what they make, and every block is perfect. But I am not that sort of person. I start out making blocks and maybe one just isn't quite right. Then there's the times when, after mindlessly making a large number of blocks over many months, I suddenly think to count how many it is I actually need for the size of quilt I want to make and, oh dear, I seem to have a few extra. I've reflected on this phenomenon and it really dates from the time when I stopped making patterns out of quilting magazines and books, and started just choosing a block, deciding on the size and look I want, and simply starting. Most of the quilts I make these days use lots of different fabrics, even if it's in a limited colourway, because that's the look I like.
There's a sort of pattern emerging here, about disorganisation and a general lack of structure, that is completely at odds with my true character. No, honestly... I mean it. Truly...