On Craft Clutter (and the Pillow Covers I Am Finally Going to Sew)
eiffel tower fabric at reprodepot
Did you know that something like 98.9% of clutter is from projects you intended to tackle, but didn’t? I mean, haven’t yet. I believe it, because I’m embarrassed to admit what’s coming up in this next sentence, but I’m nothing if not brave (insofar as confessing things on the internet is a sign of bravery):
I bought pillow inserts two years ago with the intention of finding the perfect fabric, covering them, and placing them proudly at each end of the couch. Since then, they have been moved from room to room, closet to closet, and finally, perhaps most embarrassingly, placed at either end of the sofa, uncovered. A year ago.
As long as I’m confessing things, I should probably also share that I bought a chandelier on the street for $20 about three years ago that has been carried into — count ’em — three apartments but never rewired, painted, or installed the way I originally intended. It was to my great horror when recently, after dessert with some friends, my otherwise kind-hearted man pulled the brass behemoth out of my closet and into the living room, holding it before everyone’s eyes as my crowning failure of follow-through, the ultimate embodiment of my clutter. He, understandably, wanted to let go of the past and gain some storage space. But I had plans for that chandelier.
There is some cold comfort in knowing that other people do this. Our intentions are good, our hearts in the right place, our creative juices flowing. It’s just that our powers of seeing-things-through have perhaps atrophied. This, I understand, is common. It’s one reason we have so much clutter. And maybe this would be fine in rambling farmhouses or homes with entire rooms devoted to craft projects. But in small apartments, where it is so hard to hide things away, your unfinished projects are largely on display.
red rick rack fabric at purl patchwork
But look! I have found the fabric that is just right for these pillows. And furthermore, I have the fabric that is right for two additional pillows that made their way into my life in the past several months ago. They have sat, hideously blue, on either end of the couch, smaller companions to the naked white pillow forms. But change is afoot. I feel a strong crafting breeze coming in, and the pillows will soon find themselves swathed in Eiffel Towers and red rick rack. Sometimes you need time to sit with a project, to think about it, in an unhurried way, until your vision comes together. Good things, after all, are worth waiting for. My betrothed, who claims he pined for me for eight years, should know that more than anyone.