The Day After

Well I guess it’s the day AFTER the day after the opening. The opening was great. I loved seeing so many friends and talking to people about how crazy I am…because I think that’s what it all comes down to sometimes. You are crazy for making work like this, so much of it, never stopping, so many details, so many pieces.

But here’s the core thing to understand. I’m only a LITTLE crazy when I make art all the time. When I don’t make art, I’m a LOT crazy. Unhappy, stressed, irritated (OK, that happens now, but it’s a deadly mix of teaching 12-year-olds and perimenopausal hormones), sometimes even angry. When I’m making every night…it’s hella better. And yes, I think that’s gotten worse over the years, in that in the old days, when the kids were little, I’d go weeks not touching a sketchbook or fabric or whatever, until I could carve out some time. And now they’re grown, so that helps. And yeah, I’m a hermit with very little social life, which isn’t exactly healthy, but honestly, I would rather be here cutting out 3000 tiny pieces of fabric than out somewhere. I do go out…this week is a bitch, actually, with something every night. I’m an introvert. That’s way too much human contact.

Although that’s not true either. Because I came home last night after my feminist art group meeting, with huge probably impossible ideas for one of the shows, and panic about the other one (it’s too soon! I sometimes wish I were a painter and could spend just a few hours to make something nice and full of impact, but it takes longer than that in fabric)…so that’s not a bad thing. And as I walked up the stairs to a house that’s not empty, to a Golden Retriever who really just wanted to lie on the couch with her head in my lap and two cats who wanted scratching and attention…it’s not EMPTY…but it feels empty because honestly, straight up, I don’t want to be living alone. I don’t have a choice at the moment…and girlchild at least will be home in about 3 months (oh god, that sounds like forever this week), but I don’t have to like it.

Whatever. These last two weeks have been an emotional mess. Can’t live with a functioning endocrine system…can’t live without it.

I did take little pieces with me to the meeting last night, because I knew I only had about an hour left of cutting and I wanted to be able to come home and sort them, because that’s a heinous job with so many tiny pieces. It took 10 hours total to cut them all out…not bad. I’m past the halfway mark but about a week late on my original schedule. I do have two 3-day weekends though. I might be able to pull this off.

I sorted them last night, tired and headachy and sad and annoyed by the tinyness of their existence…the box on top is all the ones that still need sorting. I do the big easy ones first and then all that’s left is Bin ‘o Tiny.

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So it took an hour to sort them all. There really aren’t a lot of big pieces in this quilt.

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It’s all kinds of crazy. But I can hopefully start ironing tonight. After my meeting. I actually went to bed early last night because I haven’t been sleeping well and my eyes were so tired after sorting all those tiny pieces that I couldn’t focus. Not good. Bed called. Good choice. I must be getting old…it was before midnight.

Anyway, I’m guessing it’ll be over 10 hours to iron this together…maybe 12? So by the end of the weekend definitely, I’m hoping to be stitching it down. It’s going to be tight getting it done, that’s for sure, but I do have a chance. Try not to think about everything else that needs doing. Prioritize. Balance. All that same shit.

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One Response to The Day After

  1. nissetje says:

    “But here’s the core thing to understand. I’m only a LITTLE crazy when I make art all the time. When I don’t make art, I’m a LOT crazy.”

    This x 1,000,000,000.

    Like

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