What an appropriate word, “anxious”. With that little twist in it, that X, and the way it falls silent at the end. That’s exactly how I’m feeling right now, counting down the hours before my first show in over a year. I sold at live shows and street fairs for nearly 10 years, but that was before settling down to toddlers, a divorce, college, and finally a new man. He’s being patient with me, my man, and will come to the show along with my no-longer-toddler children. We’re all anxious, but in different ways.
I started to feel it yesterday as I prowled the Portland Art Museum’s exhibits on kimono and Asian artifacts. It crept up on me, tugging at my my coattails, letting me know things are going to change, spring is forthcoming, and I’ve got to be ready for the turning of the tide; that after nearly a decade of perpetual failure, I’ve got to overcome the fear of success.
Today I pulled a gorgeous obi panel out of my cut pile. It was the wrong alignment to be used in a purse, so I figured I’d ebay it. Then I looked at it, I mean really looked at it, and the little designer part of my brain said “waitaminute, we’ve got four cases of pillows in the garage. Make this into a damn pillow, you silly woman. ”
Back I go to the cutting table and sewing machine for now. I’ll post the results later. So much to do, so little time.