Trusting the universe

And the supernatural being that is the Goddess of Short Deadlines

Control freakery and breaking the rules

I like control. Very much. I love a plan - even if the plan isn’t mine. Plans, structure, outside accountability. It’s the only way I get things done.

Because I’m also useless AT control. I can say I’m going to do something and then completely ignore myself and do something else instead.

I like plans and structure right up until I don’t - particularly if someone’s telling me what to do. Or makes decisions on my behalf. Even if that someone is me.

What can I say, I’m an enigma. Or annoying. Or fickle or stubborn, pick a label - they’re all ones I’ve been given before - mostly by myself.

I break the rules all the time. I push the limits. Like my self-imposed limit to finish everything by Thursday, and spend a jolly day on Friday attaching D-rings and strings and getting things ready, so I wasn’t in a rush.

Here’s me at 11pm on Friday attaching D-rings and strings having already stabbed myself in the tip of a finger with a screwdriver, by rushing what I was doing.

Why so late? I was stitching until the afternoon. Pushing it. Breaking the rules, trying to squeeze a little more time from hours that were already spent.

All will be well and imaginary things will become real

It’s entirely possible I’m putting far too much trust in my own ability to hyperfocus, to pull rabbits out of hats at the last minute, like some sort of supernatural being: the Goddess of Tight Deadlines. Previous experience tells me it’s possible to do it all, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll work every time. And at what cost? Every time I pull off some miracle (this week I started and finished two complete pieces of work, and finished two others - things that would’ve taken at least a week each just a month ago) - I forget that I’m a little bit older, a little more tired.

A section from one particularly tricksy swirl that got finished this week. The centre shape was foxing me - for several years to be honest. It’s why it wasn’t finished, I didn’t want to create a teardrop, or circle. What’s the opposite of circle? Square. Well, it is in my book. Hence the little squares. They remind me of Tooty Frooties. Remember them?!

Yet considering how much I still have to do, I’m feeling remarkably relaxed. All will be well, perhaps that’s my new mantra. In fact, I’m sure it’ll all be more than well - it’ll be fabulous. I’m really pleased with what I’ve managed to cobble together finish and frame and get on the wall. Five other artists were hanging today (well, four in person and one looked suspiciously like me doing someone a favour) and the people who didn’t hang, it’s because they create ‘things’ that don’t go on the wall - including the most beautiful tiny, wearable art. I seriously can’t wait to take a closer look!

I also have many, many things to go into unframed mounts and browser pockets, and I’m confident I’ll get that task and all the other things finished by Friday….

Helen: Are you going to use this little shelf?

Me: Yes, this little felt piece will go there along with the other two imaginary felt pieces.

Helen: Are you having a table, too?

Me: Yes - for my card rack with all the imaginary cards.

I got a bit carried away last week, turning scraps and circular things into cards. I thought they looked pretty good, especially when the circles were all stitched back together.

I’ve taken many photos, and might do something with them at a later date. The circles look fab all together in a block in my photos, I might get tote bags made. At the very least, I’ll get some cards printed. Meanwhile, I have to start all over again with the handmade ones because I took them ALL to Ramster and now I have none. Zero.

I’ve also got to start finish stitching my wire samples for my workshop (we’re a full house; all places sold!) but now with injured digit swaddled in Elastoplast. That’ll be interesting.

I have five days, what could go wrong?

Don’t you know who I am?

And talking of Ramster, it’s open NOW and here’s another example of how trusting the universe is the only way to go. I received an email from someone yesterday evening, saying they’d visited on the opening day and were disappointed that I wasn’t exhibiting. I know the curators don’t guarantee to hang everything, but I definitely delivered three pieces and to have them all rejected seemed a bit harsh! But - trust the universe. All will be well.

It’s a magnificent place to visit - this is the entrance!

• Worst case, they’re not up to par or don’t fit with the other submissions. Fair enough, nothing I can do about that.

• Middle case, they’re tucked in an awkward or dark corner.

• Best case? All three sold to exhibition helpers before the doors opened, and they took them straight home, didn’t bother putting them on the wall 😆

Reconciled to any of these, but still wanting to know, I contacted one of my lovely students first thing this morning. I knew she was planning to visit and also knows other exhibitors. I set a little mission for any one of them going over there before I can: please let me know if you spot any of my pieces?!

In the meantime, the lady who emailed in the evening had replied, and said she was visiting again and would make a point of asking where my things were. That’ll tell ‘em.

And by the time I’d got home from setting up at Common Threads a few hours later, a reply had come through from the south coast ladies with photographic evidence of my things on the wall.

Hooray!! Well done, troops - good sleuthing! For a moment, it did all feel a little “What do you mean, my stuff hasn’t been chosen - don’t you know who I am, I have collectors waiting to purchase!?!” 😂🤣

We’ll see. Trust the universe. Do you?!

Until next time, when the universe will have done whatever it has in mind,

If you’re coming along to Common Threads, there are still places available on the other workshops: textile vessels, textile collage still life, and ‘stitch-scapes’: Beth’s workshop creating miniature landscapes, including a mini hoop and kit with everything you need in case you can’t finish and need to carry on at home.