So my only creative outlet the last few weeks has been this skirt that I am finally making. I found (ages ago) the raddest cotton ever, very Japanese looking with owls all over it. I don’t have a lot, so I can’t afford to mess it up. So what am I doing? Messing up. I’ve ripped out the waist band three times; tonight, after finally getting the drawstring in (after a great adventure where I lost my needle in the band, and discovered that I’d sewn over part of where the string had to go, rendering it impassable) I tried it on, and man. You know what? I’m going to take the whole thing apart and just put in an effing zipper. Not tonight; It will probably take me hours to rip all the stitches out because I set my machine stitch length to “stupidly tiny, you will regret this later” and since cotton frays I zigzagged the hell out of everything. T_T
I feel like I’m working three jobs, and ironically the one that is least related to my future, interests, or happiness is the one taking the most time and energy. Making art makes me the happiest, and I need to work at it and improve drastically before I can apply to grad school, and it is going completely by the wayside. Oh greenhouse… you’re just stuck in the middle, leaching the last of my time away from art. And my garden.
Do you find that having less time for the things you love motivates you more to try to do them, or less?