Thursday, January 9, 2014

Before You Schedule the Intervention

Instead of the kind of writing that leaves my brain begging for mercy I'm going to show you a picture.

Coiled denim which I swear and affirm will one day be transformed into a Visually Stunning Thing
I'm playing with this.

By playing with this, what I mean is I'm sitting in bed with a lap desk and all my materials, trimming the raw seams from old denims, carefully leaving bits of straggly threads for charm, meticulously coiling the denim, pinning each one into place and leaving a crap ton of lint on my black comforter.

Here's another picture. This one shows what the seams look like before their inevitable, awe inspiring transformation.

Collection of denim masquerading as a bag of "Should I throw this away for you, Mom?"
Yes, it's denim. As a matter of fact, they are side seams from blue jeans I decided to save 8 years ago when I got into deconstructing old jeans for other projects. I looked at the seams, how strong they are in terms of durability and thought "I'll figure out a way to use these one day." (That phrase, by the way, is every craft junkie/hoarder's tag line... the universal justification for bringing home what the untrained eye sees as junk and then keeping it until rapture )

At the time I was far more focused on the larger pieces of denim fabric scavenged from the pants legs (scrap quilt anyone?) and the top portion of the jeans which were turned into a slightly profitable series of fancy "Ass Bags" (Yes, that's what I called them because I'm a classy lady) which sold online and at craft shows until a certain person declared herself my business partner and began directing my hobby from the perspective of business, thereby killing the joy of the creating, and I simply quit out of the blue. I then stuck everything in storage so as to avoid. (I'm slowly working my way to that certain person but am determined to put off the detestable task in the name of fun for a few more days)

I'd more or less forgotten I had the seam bits until we were organizing our storage unit last year and I came across 6 large boxes of Denim Stuff. Despite the desire not to bring home more craft materials without sending finished objects out of the house FIRST... I had to bring the seams. It's just one bag, right?

Wouldn't you know it, around the same time I was discovering the Upcycled posts on Pinterest and saw something like these Denim Coils and realized I'm not the only crazy person who can't throw away potentially useful stuff. Pinterest is FULL of them. It's a world for Hoarders... I mean a world for Collectors of Things! Also realized I'd found it. The inspiration needed to take this bag of scrap to its glorious destiny as objet d'art. Also around this same time, we began making preparations to move to our current home. This included long days of packing at the old house and even longer days of cleaning and land clearing here.

Then Hubby got sick. Severe heart damage.

Then we moved.

Then Hubby went back to the hospital, then we went to Boston to meet our first grand son, then Charlie went back to the hospital and almost died, and then I had to fight for the man I love and tell a burnt out cardiologist he was fired, and then I had to find a new medical team who saw Hubby as a man, not a diagnosis... and well... making Cool Things fell almost entirely by the wayside.

While all the above was happening, nothing was being done about the history of hoarding evident in every square inch of this land. Charlie's parents could throw out nothing. I'm not quite so bad, or so I tell myself. I don't have a drawer full of twist ties and every salvaged screw from 28 years of marriage... but I do have a problem letting go of things. So does Charlie.

We're not A&E worthy. There's room for me to do pilates in the living room and only the laundry room ever poses potential navigational difficulties. I've also made an effort, at least a couple of times a month, to remove from the house and property those things I can't honestly see myself using in the next year.

It's been kind of a sacrifice, I want you to know. In the event you want to feel something...

*pauses for feels*

BUT, I'm not throwing everything away because my passion really does lie with making things from other people's idea of junk.

So, while I'm dealing with stomach ick, instead of wallowing in self-misery and pathos, I'm playing with denim.

And now you know too.

Sharing is caring.

Just think of it as baby steps back to that compassion thing.

Yeah, that.

Anyone have a lint roller I can borrow?


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