The madness of crafting…

23 01 2012

And the avoidance of writing…

I’ve been experimenting with crafts lately. It’s hard, sometimes, with my MS brain, to summon words to my service. Yeah, yeah, I know. An excuse. All right, I’m tired of dusting the undersides of shelves while I pretend to be writing and so I’m wandering into fabric arts. Did knitting. Tried crocheting a bit (still unexplored territory). Now I’m into needle felting – a process where you take fluffy unspun wool and tremendously sharp needles and stab one with the other until things become shaped. Fun. Cathartic. A bit bloody. As all good crafts should be.

But then there’s wet felting. And, thanks to the miracle that is YouTube, I can pick sweet little projects to experiment with it. So today I thought I’d try felting a rock or two.

Yeah, it sounds odd. I mentioned it to my sister while pinging with her on Gmail. There was a rather significant silence. “To what end?”  she finally asked.

I didn’t have a good answer for her. I mean, you end up with a rock covered with felted wool. Big whoop. But as I was doing it, I started laughing. That alone was the reason. I mean, who in tarnation needs a felt-covered rock???  Strangely, it felt fun to do. It looks not bad. It is curious.

Of course, it is using up some of the vile coloured wool I bought in a kit. And I suppose they could be secret weapons – threaten to throw them at someone and once they stopped giggling, you could knock ’em right out.

It’s slippage, I know. I’ve been off on disability for a couple of years now and sent in countless unappreciated stories to various places, walked a lot, read a ton of books, exercised though it isn’t apparent, etc., etc. I am gradually losing my mind. Crafts are taking the empty spaces over.

I’ve told my chum that if I bring home plastic canvas to embroider he is to take me to a hospital post-haste. In the meantime, I can’t help thinking about what else I can felt. Glasses? Sticks? The TV remote? My dog? It’s too much fun to stop now. I know – I’ll head to the dollar store and buy some of those horrid polyresin statuettes and felt them. Could be cool. Or hideous. If all else fails, I can always sell them on Etsy…or is that Regretsy?

Sigh. I guess I’d better get back to my NYCMidnight Short Story entry… 




One response

23 01 2012
Cathy MacKenzie

Sounds like me, although I’ve never felted. Maybe I should try that!


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