When is Failure not a FAIL?

Failure isn't the opposite of success, failure is a stepping stone on the way to success.
                                                                                        
                                                                                      Arianna Huffington's mother

I finally finished my before un-named piece that I've been working on for a good two months or so.  It now has a name, Magnetism, but before I show it*** I want to tell the story of its creation.  This is one of those pieces that looks really simple (in fact I had to seriously check my ego when my sister-in-law said it looked like it was easy to make), but wasn't actually easy at all.  Basically once I had the drawing, I had to work out the construction, and it took a lot of thinking (for me at least) to figure out.  Once I got the how I was gonna do it, I had to actually do it.  Let me say, however, that although I felt it was a challenge, I really found myself enjoying it rather than being frustrated.  In the end I made about 7 extra squares because I wanted to make them as well as I could (notice I didn't say perfect, because I know better than to strive for perfection).  I even only got mildly irritated when I cut right through two completed squares and totaled them while trimming the colored circle seams. No cursing or even kvetching at all - that has to be a record!   

Once I got enough squares completed to my satisfaction, I was ready to construct the top. In my original drawing I had continued the yellow through the black sashing.  I worked on it for several days and tried many different ways, but I was just not able to make it work.  To my surprise, I really didn't find myself irritated or impatient at all even though nothing I tried worked.  Yes, I was a little disappointed, but once I saw it put together I was completely happy with it even though it hadn't lived up to my original expectations. 

Yahoo!  Now I was excited to back and quilt it, but then - I got another idea!  I decided it might be nice to put little black and white pluses in the middle of the piece.  Knowing it was not going to be a quick deal, I debated with myself and even took a photo and asked my friend Diane if I should.  She said yes of course - why wouldn't she?  It looked good and besides - she didn't have to do it!  But I agreed, so I then had to go back and undo the sashing and do what it took to add the pluses, adding more time and challenge.   And yes, some mild irritation attempted to sabotage my zen, but I succeeded in ignoring it and remaining calm and patient and yes, I really loved the result and deemed it totally worth it.

Finally I was ready to back and quilt it.  I don't really remember when I started it, but I have to say that this piece had already taken a lot longer than I thought it would but - and this is big but for me - despite the challenges so far I really had intensely enjoyed making this piece and I really, really liked it.  I spent a lot of time thinking about how to quilt it, but I couldn't come up with anything. Finally I got irritated with myself for acting like I was designing the Taj Mahal, so I just sat down and started quilting just the corner pieces.  And I'll be darned if I didn't like it!  

It was really time-consuming, however, and in the meantime I spent at least three hour-long walks trying to come up with a quilting design for the middles of the squares.   Again disgusted with myself putting too much energy into it, (I mean, I'm not going to be put in quilting jail or lose a limb if it's not right, am I?  It's just not that important, Carrie!) I sat down and started quilting the middle squares.  This time, however, it didn't work out.  Well, let me correct that - at first I thought I was happy with it.  In fact, I was so happy with it I actually quilted three entire squares.  Then I put it up on my design wall and looked at it for a day or so and realized not only was I not happy with it - I HATED it.  It wasn't true to my own personal design aesthetic at all - I realized I was trying to do heavy quilting like I'd seen on many quilts at Quiltcon - and more importantly, it wasn't at all right for this quilt.  But it was a heckuva lot of quilting and would take a heckuva a lot of time to pull out all those tiny stitches...

I thought about leaving it and just finishing the piece, I really did.  I mean, how important is this quilt?  I'd already spent so much more time on it than I had anticipated, and I do actually have other obligations to fulfill.  On the other hand, I really, really love this piece (sans the quilting, of course) and I really, really wanted the quilting to be right.  So I sighed heavily and began to pull all the stitches out.  It took over 45 minutes to undo the quilting on only one side of each square, but I took my time and pulled out every one of those suckers. And (and this part is almost miraculous to me) I actually felt grateful while I did it, because I was so glad that I could actually fix it.  After all, I wasn't in a hurry to finish it, and no, it's not important in the great scheme of things, I get that.  But when I had time, I worked on it a little bit.  To say I enjoyed it would be exaggerating, but I didn't mind it at all.  When I got too fatigued I just stopped and put it aside.  It took about a week, during which I finally figured out how I actually DID want to quilt it, and now, well - I sort of feel like it's some of my best work, ever!

But more importantly - I enjoyed creating this quilt, failures and challenges and all.  It was frustrating at times.  It took a long time.  It could have been a complete failure.  But it wasn't. And I really believe that in part it succeeded because no matter what happened, rather than allowing negativity to creep in, I just enjoyed the challenges.   I stayed calm and positive and was almost  - dare I say it?

                                              zen

Do I expect to be this way all the time from here on out?  Of course not!  I'm still me, and I'm far from enlightened.  But I'm going to try to remind myself of the joy of this experience often - especially when confronted with things that frustrate or annoy me.  Who knows - maybe in time it will become my way of handling things MOST of the time.  I think I'd like that.

***  I'll share some photos of the completed Magnetism in my next blog, I promise - it's late and I'm too tired to deal with photography right now.  Here's a look at the piece with the "all wrong" quilting, though.  I made it extra big so you could see it.  (Ugh - I still don't like it!)

The Irony of Giving...

Four years ago May, my excellent mother died, bequeathing me all her quilting paraphernalia, her copious amounts of fabric, and her sewing machines.  It quadrupled my fabric collection (at least), not to mention all the gadgets, doodads and whatnots she had.   To be honest, the amount of stuff she gave me was overwhelming, and I wrote about it at the time (see my post from 7/13/11 -  When is Too Much Not Enough).   

The year after my mother's death was the most challenging time of my life for many reasons, and it helped enormously to throw myself into creating.  It was as though in leaving me all that stuff, Mother knew I would need it to get through that period, and I did.  And I feel I did it justice, too. In the summer following her death I made at least six quilts.  In the years since - too many to try to count, really.  And a lot of it was using her stuff.  Especially her fabric, which I believe I have mostly used up, although if I were to guess I would say at least a fourth of my current fabric collection was still hers  

Recently I decided to take stock of my stockpile and pass some of my incredible good fortune along to my sister Erika.  Now you're probably thinking, why didn't Erika get some of this sewing stuff when our Mother died?  Why did Carrie get it all?  It's no scandal (sorry to disappoint ;).  I actually have two sisters and a brother, but at the time I was the only quilter in the family besides Mother, which is why it all came to me. However, recently Erika, a stay-at-home mother of four children and whose youngest went off to kindergarten this year, expressed an interest in learning to quilt.  She figures she has a little time, so I figured I could get her started with some of Mother's stuff.   

Now let me say, Erika is truly gifted; she constantly amazes me with her ideas and creations, and I am fully admitting right now that I had to fight a little feeling of competitiveness when I was gathering things to give her.  I knew she would be good at it and to be completely honest, a little devil thought popped into my head that she might be better and more successful at it than I (I'm not proud of it, but what can I say, I'm human). Luckily I was able to recognize that niggling negative for what it was (just a thought) and I dismissed it summarily because I know that there's enough to go around and it is NOT a competition. Plus, I love my sister and so did my mom and she would definitely want me to share the wealth with my siblings if they wanted it. So last week we went through all the stuff and she took what she wanted, and I was happy to share with her. 

And am I glad I did -  I mean WOW!  Today I went over to Erika's house to see what she was working on and I was blown away!  Her very first quilt is already showing her incredible talent. I can't say I was surprised, entirely, because I know how gifted she is, but still, I left her house in tears.  What a profound joy it was for me to see her success in creating - I can't believe how amazing it felt.  I won't say I felt proud, because pride implies that I had something to do with it.  I just felt such a deep peace and a sense of connectedness...and excitement - it's gonna be fantastic fun to share this creating with my sister.  It's one of the best feelings there is, really.  Talk about gifted - I'm the one who got the gift.

And as I got into my car to head home, I knew too that our Mother was somewhere out there nodding her head, smiling her beautiful smile, and feeling the same thing, too.   

Here is a photo of my sister's first quilt:  

It's Simple, Really

Things are a little more back to normal around here, and I have finally gotten back to work. Last week I created a piece I'm calling Aurora Borealis. 

It's a ridiculously simple piece, inspired by some pictures of the Northern Lights in Iceland. Even though it isn't technically complicated, I feel like there is still a strong visual impact with the different shades of blue against the gray and the quilted wavy lines which represent the "bent" light. 

I really like it (although it isn't completed yet - I ran out of the gray so I'm waiting to get some more for the binding).  I could easily see this hanging in someone's office, kitchen, dining room, bedroom....for me it evokes a certain feeling - peaceful yet energized - that I like.  There's also, to me, a kind of "hip" vibe I get from it, which I also like.  But I must admit I feel a little defensive about it, because it is so simple.  I feel like I have to defend it, to point out that it is worthwhile, even though it wasn't difficult to construct, to justify its creation, as it were.

All of which makes me wonder a little bit.  What is it about art that makes it "good" art?  Is it the idea, the feelings or vibe it brings out or projects, or the technical skill behind the making?  I've been looking in different places for inspiration lately, and something I have noticed is that when something appeals to me, it isn't necessarily because I realize it was obviously a time-consuming, skill-developing, painstaking something to make (although I can certainly appreciate that about something).  It may be that I have a strong visceral response to it, or I can see the thought process that's behind it, or maybe it's the use of color, or a graphic element I appreciate.  Sometimes, there's just an elegance or simplicity to which I respond in it.  Or it's just, plain, beautiful!  To me, there are so many ways that not just a piece of art, but anything - even a beautiful line on a pot, or the movement of water as it flows from my refrigerator into my glass, or words strung together on a page can be breathtaking. mesmerizing...inspiring.  

Take Alexander Calder, for example.  He's definitely one of my favorite artists.  I pretty much love everything I see of his - paintings, wire art, sculpture...there's something about his sensibility that really speaks to me. Just looking at his mobiles makes me catch my breath with joy. But most of it is visually simple, really.  I'm not saying it was technically easy to make; I wouldn't know or presume, but there is a simple elegance about it - yes it makes a statement, but it's not yelling at you, it's dancing...whispering... singing...flying...ahhh - I'm swooning just thinking about it!

Here are some of my favorites for you to enjoy, too!

People have all sorts of reasons for creating art, I know - sometimes it's a social or cultural statement, sometimes the purpose is to expel personal demons, to wake people up, to express anger and frustration, to effect change, or just to document the beauty they see. Well, I know my purpose.  My art is created with breathless joy, excitement and anticipation which hopefully spills over into the creation itself and into everyone who sees it. At least, that's my goal.**

I know, it sounds almost putridly goody-goody, but I don't care!  I really want my art to spread joy to the people who see it.  I want them to get a positive, peaceful, happy, exhuberant or "cool" feeling whenever they look at it.  I want them to swoon with joy, too.  

Which leads me to this thought about myself as an artist:  While I like to push myself, skill-wise, (which I constantly do because I'm mostly self-taught and I don't know any of the shortcuts or simple ways to do things), I also sometimes just have a feeling I want to express, or colors I want to use together, or something really graphic I want to create just because it makes me happy to look at it.  It may not end up being a challenge to make, skill-wise, but still, it was my idea (in that it came from the universe through me), I  took the time to create it from my vision, and well, isn't that enough to make it worthy or "good?"

I realize that there are as many different ways to respond to creativity as there are people on the planet, and I'm not only cool with that, I think it's wonderful, fantastic, lovely. But -  I'm going to try not to feel like I have to justify my creations anymore, be they simple or nail-bitingly complicated.  They come to me from the creative universe, and I'm lucky enough to have the (overwhelming, really) urge and ability to turn them into something others can see and enjoy and respond to as well. I hope with all my being that's the result. It's that simple. Really.  


**In the spirit of full disclosure (especially for the people who live with me or know me well) - sometimes I find myself frustrated and cursing, etc. (as I've shared before) when I'm creating, but I truly strive to keep it to a minimum because I figure that negativity may creep its way into my art.  In fact, I've begun a little discipline with myself; if I'm feeling negative and frustrated I will tell myself I have to walk away right now or let go of it, because I will not create in a negative space.  Usually all I have to do is remind myself of this, because I don't really want to stop working, I just want what I'm doing to work, dammit!  And once I realize this and take a few deep breaths, I can go back to creating with the correct mindset.  If not - well - it's time to do the laundry or clean out the car or exercise or do something infinitely less appealing than creating art.)

Does It Really Matter THAT Much?

Just realized I haven't written in a couple of weeks - been too busy working on projects and doing other stuff - you know, life.  I've also been struggling a little with a dilemma; it's rather a good problem to have, but still, there's a decision required at some point soon... and I just haven't been able to make a choice.

Here's the issue: I decided to enter a fabric challenge for Quiltcon 2015, and I have too many ideas!  What I mean is, (and it's a little difficult to admit to this) I'm sort of caught up in the "Which one is most likely to be chosen for the show?" thing.  I've already made one piece and am working on a second, and I even have a third idea I like, but that seems like overkill, doesn't it?   

I don't think it is so good to be fussing over this decision - it's giving it too much importance and focusing too much on the outcome rather than the doing.  In fact, as I write I'm getting the little niggling reminder in my head that nothing matters that much, and I should just make whatever comes to mind and whatever I have time for, and go with my gut and definitely not create with those thoughts in my mind.  In fact, I should be thrilled to have such a boatload of inspiration - it shouldn't be turned into a problem!    (Thanks for that little insight, universe - dilemma dissolved!  Another reason I love writing this blog, I almost always end up with some little kernel of wisdom that has been eluding me.)

This is, apparently, an eternal lesson for me - I definitely enjoy the entire process of creating but near the end of a project I tend to make more stupid mistakes (which makes me irritable) because I'm so anxious to see the finished product.  For example, yesterday I was sewing the binding on a piece and I was so excited to see what it looked like I did a terrible job and ended up having to resew practically the entire thing!   With that in mind I've recently made a little rule for myself that if I am getting crabby I have to walk away because I don't want negative energy to flow into my work - only positive, happy me can work in the studio. It might seem a little woo woo (to quote Carrie Bloomston), but I have seen how one person's negative energy can affect an entire room full of people, and I really want my art to bring joy and pleasure to people.  I think that anger, frustration, and anxiety can literally be transferred to the finished product if the creator is in a bad space.  And I know I don't want anything with that kind of bad juju hanging on the walls of my house or covering my bed - sounds a bit ominous, doesn't it?  

So when I feel this annoyance coming on I start with the self talk: "Okay, Carrie, if you can't enjoy this, just stop right now and go do something else," or "Is it really important to finish this right now?"  or "STOP! NOW."  If that doesn't work, I leave and come back later.  That's what I did yesterday with the binding - I made myself stop even though I really didn't want to, and I came back later and did it calmly and with joy and it was fun and I am really pleased with the outcome.  

Here's what I am thinking: Since creativity is basically a gift, it shouldn't be forced or have too much stress associated with it. That's not to say there are deadlines or other people to please, but they shouldn't cause anxiety and negativity.  Challenges are a part of life, period. They are never going to go away, no matter how good we have it.   It's the attitude with which we approach them - acceptance, calm, even the joy of being alive and having the problem - that's what matters.  I guess I just needed a little reminder of that. 

Improv Fun!

Just finished a piece that's been inside my head for a while.  This one I never even sketched, but have seen in in my mind's eye for a while and decided to go for it!   I'm super pleased with how it turned out.   What I like about this piece is that although it is simple, it's also versatile.  I think it would be really fun to make in lots of different ways with different colors and even some prints.  I also like the graphic nature of it - it has sort of a cartoon quality with the skinny black strips that I really like.    

Original design by the zen quilter

Also I love the blue fabrics (from Cherrywood, of course) - they are so rich in color! 

 Now for the hard part - I have no idea how I'm going to quilt it!   It's kind of stark, I think, so I don't want to add to much of anything.  Oh well, kind of a fun dilemma to have!  I'm calling it "Blue Modern" for now.  It took about three days to make the top, which is also fun.  The only difficult part was figuring out how to cut the angles, but I overcame that, too, math genius that I am not!  Will share how I did it later, no time today, just excited and wanted to share...I might try to enter this one in Quiltcon, I like it so much. 

TTFN  and enjoy your weekend!   

Lessons Learned

A couple of interesting lessons for me this week that I want to share:  First, on the link between creativity and being in the moment:  I just finished a wall hanging inspired by my week long foray into the tunnel of the Modern Quilt Guild website.  (I loved it in there – only my love for my family and need to work pulled me out, otherwise I might still be wandering around in there ooohing and aahhhing and getting generally very excited but accomplishing exactly nothing.  It’s a good place to visit for short periods, though – lots of inspiration.) 

I was pretty excited about the wall hanging - it was much more minimalistic than other things I’ve been working on, but it had possibilities.  Then one day I sold two of my art pieces.  I was glad about this, but I quickly reminded myself that while helpful, that isn’t the reason I create and to keep being present and not focus on what may or may not happen in the future with it.  (Good discipline, Carrie!  Good job being present!)  I was not being externally motivated – good for me. 

Well…I told  myself not to be external, but secretly (even I didn’t realize it) I was, and here’s how I know:  I fussed and cursed and got frustrated while I was working - much more than I have in a long time.  I felt impatient to be finished and my mind kept wandering to the next quilt I wanted to begin.  So there was little joy in the moment or presence while I worked – I wasn’t having much fun.

Secondly, when I did finish it, I felt – well, nothing.  I didn’t have a sense of peace or “rightness” or accomplishment I often feel when I finish something.  That feeling of ‘Yes, that’s it!’ never happened.  It just left me cold.  There’s nothing wrong with it – it’s fine technically, but I don’t like it that much, and I’m sure it’s because I lost touch with that creative vibe and became too wrapped up in the idea that I need to get more stuff out there as soon as possible because it might just sell.  In other words, I was focused on the outcome, not the doing, and the result is that I just don’t like this piece.  It’s too bad, too, because I spent a lot of time on it. 

It wasn’t a total loss, though.  The good news is that I learned a little something  –  I realized how important it is to true creativity to not think too much – about anything, in fact, but especially about a possible outcome that may or may not ever happen again.  I realize that often in the past when I was trying to create I missed a lot of the fun, although I didn’t realize it at the time.  I was always so focused on the outcome – I wanted to finish too much - hence the cursing and fussing and gnashing of teeth.  (Well I’ll be damned -  here I thought I was just a naturally impatient, ill-tempered guttersnipe, and it was all just a matter of focus…although I still blame a little of it on hormones….there’s no getting around the fact that menopause completely sucks!)

So it turns out that being truly creative is actually a discipline !  (And here so many people think artists are un-disciplined.)  Yep, it takes a lot of discipline to actually do the work, but the more important discipline is to be fully awake to each thing you do while you are doing it – that’s where the enjoyment comes in, that’s where the fun comes in - and now I know for certain - it’s where the beauty comes in as well.

 And no, I haven’t forgotten the other thing I was going to share – the first one was just rather long-winded. The second thought is that the universe is truly miraculous at giving one exactly what one needs exactly in the moment one needs it.  If not for the fact that one hour after I made some money on my art I went to the dentist and found out I have to have a root canal (to the tune of precisely the same amount I made on the sales), who knows how long it might have taken me to make the first realization?  I can only feel deeply grateful that a) it was an even trade, and b) for the time I’ve already saved in the future on things I might have wasted my time on because I was thinking too much about possible outcomes -Thanks, Karma!  J

(And while I may sound just the teensiest bit like I’m being ironic, I actually really am and do feel grateful – but still, it is  a little ironic, isn’t it?)

And just to keep myself honest, here is a picture of the quilt, called not-so-originally "Blocks of Color."

Are we there yet?

What I'm wondering at the moment is why?  Why is it that some projects come together so quickly while others hang on the design board for ages, half-finished or even nearly finished?  And still others are doomed to lie, inert and ignored until one day when I'm looking for something and I find them and think "Man I love this thing; I really need to finish it!"  After which I promptly fold it up and store it until the next time I look at it and exclaim over its loveliness and put it right back in the bin!
  Is it because some are easier than others?  Does it have to do with size?  Or is it the whim of my attention?  Because I started my latest piece about three weeks ago, and I'm already finished with it; while the piece I began in October, called Glacier, is still pinned to the design board waiting for even one hour of my attention to complete it.  And forget about the one that's three plus years old...  
The thing is, I like all three of them, and I really like to finish what I start, because then I feel like I haven't wasted my time, but still - why is it that I cannot seem to bring myself to complete some tasks, while others are done almost before I even realize it? 
I'm guessing that art, like everything else in my life, has its moods.  Anyway, one thing to point out, if I'm honest, is that the lack of completion usually centers, for me, around the actually quilting process; one which I feel is my weakest link as far as skill goes.  I can't afford to have someone else do the quilting for me (besides, if I'm being completely honest, to me it doesn't feel like it's truly mine if someone else works on it), and other ideas are always beckoning to me, singing their siren calls of novelty. 
So I've decided to give myself permission to have projects in various stages (I used to think I had to completely finish one project before I started another -  that practical German side of me rearing its hard, square head again) but only if I don't carry it too far and have more than three at any one time that I'm working on.  But if I'm totally honest, I will admit that currently it's more like I have five in various stages, and I've already done sketches for two more and begun cutting one of them out - oh crap, it's getting out of hand - I need to stop starting...and start finishing!
On the flip side, however, (because there's always a flip side, isn't there -gotta love that about life!) maybe art is all about inspiration, and you have to follow the thread of it when it strikes you.  Maybe that's how artists get their reputation for capriciousness - because sometimes when it hits it's all I can do to stop myself from getting up in the middle of the night so I can get started NOW (although often I just go with it, but I do try to be quiet so as not to wake up the entire house). 
And, too, I know myself well enough to see that at some point, I am actually going to want to finish those three/four/five-year old pieces and I will do so, just as someday I will finish all the pieces that my dearest mother started and didn't finish - whenever doing it will remind me of her and the special quilting days we shared with a smile, not tears.   It will all be done eventually, I know it will.  Or not - whatever. 
But not right now; at the moment I'm busy working on this little flash. 

Margin of Errors

Recently I tool a quilt into an art dealer who absolutely loved it – thought it was beautiful, wanted to hang it in her gallery.   I was so excited - until she spent the next five minutes pointing out its flaws!  I don’t blame her – she was absolutely correct, and luckily I was able to really make the piece a lot better for her input, but I admit I walked away feeling a little bruised – it’s not like I didn’t try to get it right!   I actually aspire to absolute perfection in my work – not very Amish of me, I guess. 

You see, the Amish always deliberately leave a flaw in their quilts - or so I’ve heard.  They do this because, they say, only God is perfect and it would be wrong to try to be God.  This really works for me - only luckily, I don’t have to purposefully do anything in any of my work – flaws just happen. (I wonder if this makes me holier than thou?!) 

Admittedly in the past, I have been in a great hurry whenever I was quilting, trying to fit it in between my life.  The rushing to get finished often led to lots of errors and much frustration and yes, cursing that would make a sailor blush. I wanted my work to be perfect, but I also wanted it to be completed, and time (and my patience) were rather limited.  So I was never completely satisfied.  Now that I have a different, more “zen” view, I no longer feel such a need to hurry and get finished, which I really do believe enhances my creativity.   I know it increases my enjoyment (not to mention my family’s peace) and makes my finished products better…except for the blasted flaws.  There are still always, always, flaws in my work.  No matter how slowly I go, no matter how careful I think I am being. 

Part of it is my own fault; my ideas are often far beyond my skill level – I almost wish I wouldn’t think of some things, because then I have to try them, and often I really, really don’t know how the hell I am going to make them work! (All I can say is thank God for people who share their own discoveries and techniques in books and on the internet – if I ever make any of my own, I promise to share, too!)  I also think might have a slight fine-motor coordination problem because no matter how hard I try to sew something perfectly straight, it never comes out that way.  But whatever excuses I can conjure (and I’m sure they are numerous – I have a great imagination) the fact remains that I still want my stuff to be flawless.  It just never is.

So is it even possible to create something perfect?  I don’t know.  I sure see a lot of things that I think are perfect.  My mother’s friend Karen seems to produce quilt after quilt with no discernable flaws – not very Amish of her!  I’ve asked her how she does it but alas, she cannot tell me her secret – she claims that they are indeed flawed.  Okay, but I sure don’t see any.  Apparently even Michelangelo wasn’t completely pleased with his statue of David – says it’s out of proportion or something – I can’t say I agree with him either, but the point is, maybe perfection is actually unattainable.  So do we quit striving for it?  Nah – I don’t think so.  

            But we do have to keep it all in perspective.   I don’t think that we should see our creations through rose-colored glasses – it’s good to look at them critically, as others may.  It’s a good thing for me – it keeps me striving, alert, challenged, engaged.    However, the new, calm-ish me strives to undo, re-cut, tear out, even start over, to take my time, and what’s more, to do it joyfully!  I figure it’s good practice for being accepting of the moment – the less I curse or sigh heavily, the better I’m doing! Not to set the bar too high, eye rolling is permissible, but if I can ever get to the point where I can do it without a single grimace or twinge of frustration, I’ll know I’m making serious progress.

           The goal is the perfect(!) balance between pursuit of perfection and knowing when to let go – not too soon, but not to the point where I have apopleptic fits over a few stitches that truly don’t make a difference at all – for me, at least, a fine line indeed!  And no, I’m not deluded that I will actually ever arrive at that final, flawless destination, but I shall still endeavor to board the train, at least - the journey is the thing, after all.  We’ll just see where it takes me…