Those Who Can't...Need to Take Their Own Advice

After the Mardi Gras dress marathon, I lost my sewing mojo.  I felt pleased about having made a dress, and wearing it.  However, when I saw photos of the dress in action, I was disappointed.  All was fine when I was standing still, but any photo that captured motion showed gaps between the fabric of the dress and my body, reflecting deficiencies in my still-beginner sewing and design skills.

In the weeks since then, I had thoughts of withdrawing from my courses, I applied for a bundle of office-y, non-fashion jobs, I considered selling my sewing machines and I even pondered dismantling my beloved home studio.  It is embarrassing to think of having taken three semesters of apparel design courses, and to still be intimidated by installing a zipper.  My carefully cultivated haven of inspiration and workspace was starting to feel like a farce and also a waste of a room could be used for other things.  I'm an imposter!  My ideas are multiplying, but my skills feel stagnant.

All of this questioning led, predictably, to a great questioning of the path and a mingling of regrets and small panic attacks.  Inevitably, a great malaise settled on me, hood-like, compounded by normal business-of-life trials and annoyances related to cars and health and taxes and the like.

However, my funk is lifting and it's time to get back to it.  I need to follow some of my own advice.

Let's review:

Last July, I commented on my need for persistence and for taking the long view, in addition to reflecting on the wisdom of some past great thinkers.  Last August, I noted how nice it was to be under a temporary contract, because of the freedom it provided.  Additionally, it is important for me to remember that when I work full-time at an office, I generally feel as though I'm dying a slow death from stale air and bad coffee. Also, it took me a year and a half after moving to Calgary to get that job, and I've only been living in Houston for four months.

In January, I set a goal of making a business plan, even if it's too soon and I don't know what I'm doing.  And finally, just a few days ago, I reviewed the usefulness of boundaries with regard to creativity.

Given all of that, I reorganized my sewing room to take stock of what needs to be done.  I knew that there were some half-baked projects lurking, but now that they have been unearthed and grouped, I understand the enormity of the problem, and probably the source of my blue mood: I feel ornery and unsuccessful because I haven't been persistent enough to be successful yet.  My skills won't improve if I keep starting new projects when the current ones become complicated.  Conclusion: for the moment, time to stop applying for random jobs and to instead focus on finishing unfinished business.