Sewing makes my eyes bleed. And my brain cramp. And then there's that problem with explosive diarrhea.
I sew because there are things that I want. Unlike my sister and her daughter who attended Hogwarts School for Sewing Wizardry, I can sew if you put a fully loaded gun to my head with Clint Eastwood on the other end of it.
"You wanna make a quilt then? Do ya punk?"
Yes, I've made a few quilts. They keep me warm. Just don't look at the seams...DON'T!
I lately find that I can't handle much in the way of sewing (hmmm, here's where I would slip in one of those 'crafting as a metaphor for life' observations if I was all philosophical like. Fortunately, I'm mildly retarded and will spare you the bullshit.
Little things. I can handle little things. I can put together a three piece quilt square but when faced with sewing it into a quilt top, I'm forced to wash three Valium down with a shot of Jack Daniels and call it a night.
I haven't made a purse for awhile but I occasionally enjoy that, except for when the pattern REALLY PISSES ME OFF. I believe the last purse I tried to make ended up with me throwing it, half finished onto the floor and screaming that I hated it, it never talked to me, and it was cold and uncaring.
Yeah...never sew while thinking about marital discord. It never has a happy ending (the project or the marriage.)
But I must admit, I LOVE to make potholders. Five minutes to cut out, two minutes to sew. It's the ULTIMATE ADD sewing project. They also don't take a lot of fabric, so poor people can have fun too!
And, as my dog can attest, when you accidentally dip them in spaghetti sauce the night before and leave them a little too close to the ground before taking them to the washer, they are DELICIOUS!