Therapy through sewing.
The urge to sew has kicked in again. I've realised that my days of painting and sketching have passed-- I don't have the same skill or inspiration anymore to suddenly want to paint, or at least paint something that's meaningful to myself. But sewing... it's a hobby that seems to take me back to someone I used to be.
Every so often, I go through my collection of fabrics and I look, touch and study all of the samples and pieces I've gathered over the years. Scraps I've taken while exploring the textile district. Bags of fabric I secretly took from my mother's own collection. Some given to me by a friend who thought I'd make better use of her deceased mother's fabrics than the rest of her family. All of these pieces contain fragments of stories, promises and experiences. When I go through my sewing box, I also look at some of the projects I've abandoned. Purses and dolls I never had the time or sometimes lacked the motivation to complete. But when I feel the itch to begin sewing again, it's like some part of me feels lost or in a panic, like I need to go back to what I used to love to do and try to find myself again. I go back and I pick up all of those fabrics, comb through them again, and come up with an idea of how they should all come together.
Do people often go through cycles where they feel like they've forgotten who they are? Do people spend the time to just reflect on who they are now and where they thought they would be? When I was younger I always saw myself going into the arts and fashion. Now as an Engineer, I feel like I've cheated myself out of what I should have done.
In the past, after I've started a project I find that I become more at peace with myself because I'm able to balance everything I want to do and everything I need to do. I realize that in the end, I haven't really forgotten what I enjoy doing and that I can still pursue it. It's like making a handbag. I think of all of the different parts of me-- all of my past experiences, stories and promises I've made to myself and I piece them together so that they finally form a whole. When I crack open the sewing box tomorrow night, I can only hope that I'll be able to find some sort relief.
Every so often, I go through my collection of fabrics and I look, touch and study all of the samples and pieces I've gathered over the years. Scraps I've taken while exploring the textile district. Bags of fabric I secretly took from my mother's own collection. Some given to me by a friend who thought I'd make better use of her deceased mother's fabrics than the rest of her family. All of these pieces contain fragments of stories, promises and experiences. When I go through my sewing box, I also look at some of the projects I've abandoned. Purses and dolls I never had the time or sometimes lacked the motivation to complete. But when I feel the itch to begin sewing again, it's like some part of me feels lost or in a panic, like I need to go back to what I used to love to do and try to find myself again. I go back and I pick up all of those fabrics, comb through them again, and come up with an idea of how they should all come together.
Do people often go through cycles where they feel like they've forgotten who they are? Do people spend the time to just reflect on who they are now and where they thought they would be? When I was younger I always saw myself going into the arts and fashion. Now as an Engineer, I feel like I've cheated myself out of what I should have done.
In the past, after I've started a project I find that I become more at peace with myself because I'm able to balance everything I want to do and everything I need to do. I realize that in the end, I haven't really forgotten what I enjoy doing and that I can still pursue it. It's like making a handbag. I think of all of the different parts of me-- all of my past experiences, stories and promises I've made to myself and I piece them together so that they finally form a whole. When I crack open the sewing box tomorrow night, I can only hope that I'll be able to find some sort relief.
posted by Miss Pow @ 11:14 p.m.
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