I did not learn to sew at my mother's knee. My mother sewed constantly when I was young, and my wardrobe was a delicious mix of hand-me-downs and homemade. Then I became interested in boys and popularity (I failed spectacularly at both) and refused to wear anything but clothes that Other People Had. Then in high school, I went punk and "made" my own clothes - this mostly consisted of ripping, pinning and dyeing but no actual sewing. I leaned towards artsy as opposed to craftsy. Then, of course, life happens, and I mysteriously found myself in law school. My artwork careened between angry and indifferent.
Suddenly, in my 34th year, I found myself with lots of time on my hands. The Big C, Breast Cancer to be exact, crept into my life and I found myself with lots of time on my hands. I hated the law, and I longed to make something with my hands.
My older brother makes beautiful things: his quilts are exquisite. I would surf the internet and long to make stuff like that. So my dad brought me an ancient New Home sewing machine that he had found somewhere, I bought a book and made a purse! I was overjoyed!
Creation is therapy. Sewing is alternately joyful and infuriating.
Please follow me as I learn to sew! I'll take suggestions, comments, and help. I'll post my progress, my thoughts about the healing powers of crafting, and with hope we'll all learn some truths along the way.