labour of love

modflowers: labour of loveSometimes, making things comes easy. And sometimes they are a labour of love.

It’s all about that “flow” that comes upon you, the feeling that the right thing is right there; that every piece of fabric you pick up is the right bit of fabric for what you need it for; that stuff just falls into place and the right thing results.

And sometimes… it doesn’t.

I sometimes think I suffer from a disproportionate amount of the latter. I’m not quite sure why.

I’m also a terrble procrastinator.

I put this down to when you spend much of your day sitting alone in your kitchen stitching, it becomes too, too easy to get sucked far too far into social media.

Even though it does sometimes make me feel like a minority of one in my thoughts, tastes and opinions, most of the time it beats not having anyone to talk to.

Well, it’s either that, or I have no self-discipline. Ahem.

modflowers: labour of loveThis little rodent was made in between projects for other people, as a bit of creative light relief.

Not that the other projects are heavy or difficult, but they are other people’s visions. I find I like to have something on the go that is entirely my own to work on – it helps to keep the creative muse fed, don’t you know.

Anyway, although I love making stuff up, without any rules, this time even this wasn’t an easy process. Everything mouse is wearing is the end result of several discarded previous choices: the frock, the hat, the scarf – all of it.

The rejects are currently sitting in my “work in progress” box (and will no doubt re-emerge to adorn some another small creature at some point in the future.)

Anyway, at least I love how she turned out in the end. She really is a proper labour of love.

Sometimes things don’t just flow. But it still pays to push things along and keep them moving, because that’s how the dam gets worn down and the blockage, eventually, gets washed away. ♥

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if you go down to the shop today…

modflowers: if you go down to the shop today - bruin bears…You’re sure of a big surprise! Well, maybe a little surprise. But then, it is only a little shop. Although a very nice one.

Although I suppose if you’re reading this I’ve just ruined any element of surprise. But hey, go anyway.

The four brand new bears in these pictures are awaiting new owners down at the Handmade Nottingham shop, along with a few more of my small creations.

After having got my sew-jo back it’s been lovely to create something new.

modflowers: if you go down to the shop today - bruin bearsThere’s hippy chick bruin bear, with her love beads, headband and furry waistcoat, and her consort with his embroidered bolero, scarf and bobble hat.

Then there’s party frock bruin girl – her frock is made out of a bit of sleeve from a real, genuine 1970s party frock.

I cut off the top (it was sized for someone much tinier than I) and recycled the bottom half into this skirt:

modflowers: skirt made from vintage frockLast, but by no means least, there’s jumper-wearing bruin; a bear who is not quite sure that pink is his colour but is too polite to say so.

modflowers: if you go down to the shop today - bruin bearsWell, the aforementioned jumper is made from cashmere (rescued from my cardi that the dratted moths lurking in our house had feasted upon.)

modflowers: if you go down to the shop today - bruin bearsI’ve got a few other projects to finish off and then I’m intending to get creating anew in earnest, and to stop slacking so inexcusably.

I may even get around to restocking my Etsy shop, which I’ve been promising to do since Christmas, but which, as usual, has been sadly neglected due to my lackadaisical ways of late (cue tumbleweed rolling across the Etsy shop floor.)

It’s time to make enough bears (and other creatures) for a picnic…

Or maybe even a shop. ♥

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stuck

modflowers: recent work So, the dog is gone.

We all cried. We still feel sad. Both for her, and for ourselves. We wanted a dog, but after our experience with Lupin… it is not to be.

There will not be another dog. I think that ship, the one with our dog on it, has sailed.

It’s been just over a week now, since we took her back.

During that week I discovered that three of the seven pups in her litter have been returned to the rescue, because of similarly difficult-to-live-with traits. So Lupin is currently living with one of her brothers, which is a nice thought in a way, but sad for both dogs in reality.

modflowers: recent workI also discovered that the rescue are already advertising her for adoption, describing her as “good with other dogs and children over twelve”. Lad is thirteen. When we took Lupin back, I gave them two sides of A4 listing all of her problems. Right at the top was the problem of her ongoing aggression towards lad.

So I called to tell them, again, that she wasn’t good with children over twelve. Or men. Or strangers generally. But it seems that their one-day assessment of Lupin’s character trumps our nearly-six-months of living with her. They say they have seen no evidence of aggression. So that’s that.

The thought that another family may go through the same painful experience as us upsets me greatly, as does the thought of Lupin facing a third rejection, but having handed her back it seems there is nothing more I can do about it. And so I have had to breathe deeply and let go.

modflowers: recent workA week later, and I am still hoovering up dog hair and wondering what to do with the packets of dog treats in the cupboard.

I should be getting on with work, I have lots to do, but I seem to be stuck.

Inspiration is always sparse at this time of year, but it’s worse than that. I feel a bit panicky when I try to start work. Some of the work I have done has not, to my eye at least, been my best.

Our new neighbours are knocking through their kitchen at the moment and it is very noisy. The builders have managed to dislodge the plaster on our adjoining kitchen wall – chunks and dust come cascading down. But that’s no excuse.

I clean the house as displacement activity. I try to drag up some creativity from somewhere, but it appears to have gone into hibernation for the duration.

It’s not because of the dog, I think. It’s just the winter, dragging on. It seems, like me, to be stuck. It afflicts me every year, this dark period after Christmas. I need to get stuck in, but instead I get stuck in a time warp.

Roll on spring. ♥