Fear

This is seven pounds of fear. Or maybe trepidation, or perhaps just a bit of a case of the butterflies. Whatever. There are plenty of skeins, lots of colors (or rather, the colors I wanted), there are dark and light values, some white, grey and dark (on the left there, hard to see, thank you madam photo-stylist).

Here's another two pounds worth of fear:



warp yarns. 3 ply, tightly spun, plenty. Fun to spin, so maybe I went a little overboard with the amount.

Starting a new project can be exciting. Planning a new project is fun. Thoughts of the completed object are perfect, every little detail falls into place: the colors are just right, the design flows, the hand is perfect, the project goes smoothly. In thought.

In fact, things rarely fall into place so easily. So it is with a bit of hesitation that I start a new, big, project, despite the careful planning and preparation.

At some point in the preparation, I often realize that I am procrastinating. I will spin far more than needed, because the spinning is going just fine. I will dye enough yarn for two projects, just to make sure.

But when all the spinning and all the dyeing are done, there is nothing left to do but start.

And once that happens, all manner of problems may arise. It is that may arise that keeps me spinning long after I know I have enough. Why court trouble? Everything is going just fine here in spinning-land, I think I'll just stay here.

What do I fear? Well, the inevitable glitch. I know I am resourceful though, and can work my way out of most problems.

So is it the fear that the project won't be perfect? Well, yes, that enters into it. In my mind's eye, it is already done. The real physical project rarely matches that perfect picture. Is that bad? No. It is what it is. Sometimes it is just an indication of my limitations, made real, in physical form. Who wants to be reminded of that all the time?

But if this is what I can do, then I need to accept that. Work on it, Do better next time. All those things I know to be true.

I am my own worst critic. I know where all the skeletons are buried: where the color was not right, but good enough. Where in my mind's eye, that curve, that line was different, better somehow.

I will get over the fear. I will stop with the preparation and just jump right in. I will let go of the idea of perfection and just trust (or, more likely, just think: the hell with it, let's get this over with).

Starting is the worst. Take a deep breath, cut the yarns, and put them on the loom. Keeping on, working on it, are not so bad, once the parameters are set.

The work is fun, the idea becomes real. Having a physical object come to life that was once only an idea is a joy and a pleasure. And maybe, someway, somehow, with work and skill, the idea and the reality will someday match.