How do you know when it is time to let go?
Every project starts with the idea and the excitement to start something new.
Gathering the tools, you’ll need. Researching and fuelling the inspiration you have. Starting the process, completing the first steps. Seeing the first progress followed by fulfilment.
You proceed, everything seems to go fine, even good. Any obstacles will be overcome.
If only we could conserve that initial enthusiasm in a jar for later!
Weeks ago, I started a silk quilting project.
I cut apart five silk shirts, that I had collected in second hand shops over the past year. To then fit them back together into squares by applying what we call “quilting” technique. Those squares should eventually be put together into two big squares. Which then would form a dress.
A long summer dress to run around in birch forests, river benches or sand dunes.
But even though that sounds tempting and very romantic to me, it wasn’t the reason to start the project.
At the time I was looking for a meditative repetitive occupation, where I could let my hands work while my thoughts could wander around wherever they want to.
An occupation that would be so ridiculously long, that I would have to focus only on the process and not on the result.
This is how my choice fell on quilting. Which does take forever, especially if you are a total beginner as I am.
There I went, listening to Audiobooks, Music and my Thoughts, repeating the same pattern over and over again, in an endless loop.
Cutting.
Assembling.
Pinning.
Sewing.
Ironing.
And sewing again.
The first ten times of repeating the pattern were just to get into the movements. The next fifty times for getting into a flow. Eighty times and I am completely immersed. After the hundredths time I am getting slower. I begin to wonder why I cut fabric into squares, just to sew them back together in a slightly different way. I keep going until boredom paired with impatience starts to creep into my thoughts and changes the vibe. Getting frustrated or neglecting the project, followed by feeling guilty and picking it back up. Short moments where I get the flow back.
My initial calmness was gone.
My need changed.
The more I was sewing, the longer I was imagining myself wearing this dress. Setting up scenes and places where I would take photos of it.
I wanted to walk through the forest, maybe take photos, wander around. Why am I stuck in front of my sewing machine?
It was ridiculous to hurry myself. It is impossible to finish a project that takes a thousand hours in three days. For that was how much I had left before moving my atelier back on the road. (more about that later…🙃)
Because I had already set up another project, that would take me a thousand hours, consuming all my thoughts and time.
How could I complete two such occupations at the same time?
At that stage the question wasn’t whether to abandon the silk-quilting project or not.
It was about focusing on one thing instead of many. And for that I had to wave goodbye to the silk-dress-dream.
I still finished a few silk squares, more than I ever though I would.
And I still ran through the birch forest. Shy green sprouts covering the crowns of the trees, a blooming forest. Rust red fern, reminding of last year’s autumn.
Waving goodbye to a train that was long gone. With a beautiful silk square, flowing in the wind as if it was always meant to do so.
Thank you all for stopping by and see you around soon, have a wonderful week!
(All photos and words are mine, taken and written by me)