The second draft is now safely in the hands of multiple beta readers and I’m now out of my “what do I do now?” stupor. So as I promised myself years ago I’m indulging in a sewing project (or two). New research + changed shape = I need new sixteenth century stays, so I’m raiding my fabric stash.
I’m going to use a nicer fabric than above, though stays are a foundation garment and never show. Not sure when I’m going to wear them next, either: I’ve not had much opportunity to dress up since last fall’s renaissance festival.
So why go to all the trouble of fitting and refitting with junk fabric for something no one’s ever going to see that I may not get to wear anytime soon?
Because utility isn’t the point. The result isn’t even the point, though I’ll make them as well as my skills allow.
No, it’s the experience of making.
Planning. Problem solving. Experimentation. Ripping it up and starting again, if necessary. Abandoning a project if I work myself into a corner because not everything works out. Always learning something, for good or ill. And, of course, fun.
Kind of like writing, that way.
I don’t know what’s going to become of these stays, or of the book. Maybe I’ll ruin perfectly good silk on something that won’t fit or look good. Maybe I’ve spent the past 4 years on a 300+ page turkey. Neither would be fun, and in the case of the book it’d break my little black heart if the second draft is unsalvageable.
But it’s not the destination, it’s the journey. Even failed projects are practice for the one that succeeds. Or so I keep telling myself.
Oh yes!!! It’s all about the making, the hands-on of discovering of how does this work to create this? That’s why, according to Ravelry, I have -mumble- 34 /-mumble- partly finished knitting projects on the go. (also explains why I can never find a not-in-use row counter when I want to cast on something new, even though I seem to be buying new ones all the time). A handful of these are destined to be frogged (unraveled) because they are simply not working … either yarn and pattern turned out to be a good match or I just no longer feel the love enough to want to finish them. And I know I’ve learned from the work I did do on them … about how the yarns feel and behave and the engineering structure of the patterns, even if the fabrics/products are doomed to become raw materials again.