The list of creative projects I want to do, that are either in progress or not yet started:
- Rose garden duvet cover (finish)
- Experimenting with watercolor
- More doodling with colored pencils and pens
- RBG cross stitch (finish)
- Shades of blue and white braided rug (finish)
- Braided-braided flannel möbius scarf (experiment)
- Duvet covers for other 3 seasons (summer, fall, winter)
- Baby quilt gift (way overdue to finish)
- Decoupage/collage-based images of flowers or other scenes (experiment)
- Paper or fabric flowers to hang on mobiles (experiment)
Yes, these could take quite some time… especially considering I can’t decide where to start.
Anyway, take this as a list of things you may see popping up here and there as I get going…
I’ve been reading about how to make soap lately. Lovely, homemade soap with herbs and essential oils. According to one school (the only school?) of thought, there’s simply no way to do it without using lye.
Apparently lye can also explode if you don’t stir it into the water quickly enough and it just pools at the bottom. The instructions didn’t describe how large an explosion it could be for a small batch recipe. Maybe it’s more like a sparkler than a firecracker?
Of course, there were also all the other warnings about safely handling lye and fumes. But I got distracted by the, “stir quickly, or it might explode.” Way to bury the lede.
(Side note: I only recently learned that “lede” is the proper word in this case. I can’t believe I’ve gone more than thirty years believing it was “lead.”)
This brings me to the ethical dilemma of whether to fully inform the household of the risks associated with soap making, or just cross my fingers, or put off soap experiments for the time being. I suspect option three is inevitable.
But never fear, there is still lotion (no lye), and candles (fire! But not at home) to play with.
It turns out that starting a business, even a tiny one, is really hard to do while also moving to another state. My elves went on strike.
While they were on strike, it did give me the chance to reconsider what, exactly, I wanted to be doing craft-wise and potentially Etsy-wise.
You may have noticed a slightly new look to the blog. It describes in broad strokes what I’m interested in making…in some ways, it’s much broader and more experimental than before, and in others a lot more clearly focused.
The shop is on hiatus while I figure more of this out and do some R&D and potion-brewing, so the blog will mostly be about things I’m working on, or aspire to work on, someday.
I have deep familiarity with analysis paralysis. I had no idea there was a non-information based equivalent when there are SO MANY shiny ideas ping-ponging in your brain leaving little trails of “I should TOTALLY make that.” Even though you KNOW the smart decision is to pick ~4-5 types of things to focus on (each having a little variety in sizes or styles) and see what does or doesn’t do well first.
But I am ONE person.
But I have NO STORAGE SPACE.
This inner dialogue could continue for quite some time. I am at my weakest late at night and think, “well, it couldn’t hurt to make just ONE of these….”
Speaking of shiny. My dad and I visited with some dear family friends this weekend, and one of them (Hi Debbie!) gave me some lovely cross-stitch and needlepoint magazines/books that she’s been saving. It was so thoughtful of her. And yet–did you see the picture of my head exploding?
I want to make ALL of these. Plus items that you can’t see, but I found while browsing through the magazines. Last Christmas, I haunted Etsy looking for 12 Days of Christmas ornaments for my tree, and I couldn’t find any I liked and it just didn’t even occur to me to make them myself. And now I can.
Except, the point is kind of to make things for OTHER people to buy, not to keep for myself. Hmm. I can see that this may be a slight flaw in my business model.
Addendum: Spending four hours doing laundry to pre-wash, dry, and fold all the fabric has put a tiny dent in my enthusiasm. This dent is much smaller than the dent caused by the prospect of ironing all of the fabric.
On the other hand, those four hours gave my plenty of time to think of MORE ideas. It’s a vicious (virtuous?) cycle, clearly.