2002-11-30 - 3:40 p.m.
THE ACT OF CREATION
Several yards of fabric with purple and blue through it like watercolors beckoned. I laid them out on the kitchen table and altered the pattern. I picked up the scissors while thinking that I sometimes lose sight of just how much I enjoy the act of creation. Then I thought of the nature of the act of creation.
To become a pretty dress, the fabric must look like something less than it was so that it later can look like something more. The fabric that becomes scrap is not inferior to the fabric that becomes dress. It just is located in the wrong place at the wrong time. The winnowing of dress from not dress is a bit random and senseless.
And then I sew. No fabric becomes a dress without being cut, poked with a needle, and heated by an iron. I fuse interfacing with fabric to shape and strengthen the garment. I baste, fit, and baste again, occasionally ripping out nearly as many stitches as I put in. I rip to perfect and, as for most of the original stitches, I think of them as steps to a goal rather than mistakes. I sew and I trim. What I take out matters as does what I put in.
Like every other human being I�ve ever met, I�ve spent some time wondering why so many horrible things happen in this world. Perhaps there is a plan but I often fail to see any pattern. Good things happen to bad people. Bad things happen to good people. Life has some linearity but not nearly as much as we often pretend. Chaos often seems just around the corner.
Sewing seems to lessen the sense of chaos. I need to sew more often.
LAST YEAR: Just a Kid
LAST FIVE ENTRIES:
Why I Should Not Divorce
Turkey for One?
An Urge to Reboot the Helpless Guy
Whistling in Chinese Restaurants
Veteran of the Calculus Wars
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
