The things we do.... oh, yes. The things we do. Historically speaking, a lot of the projects I've tackled are done because someone else tells me I can't. Or that it would look silly/stupid/blah blah blah. If I disagree, I am likely to follow through and see what it looks like. I have a double streak of stubborn and curious that runs through all that I am.
I have never seen an inverted Double Wedding Ring, as previously mentioned. Even I wasn't sure it was a good idea! Especially since I don't necessarily care for dwr quilts (I am lazy - I am NOT typing the full double wedding ring again and again! It's my blog, I can do what I want!). But. Because I am stubborn, I decided that I would make at least one ring of an inverted dwr.
So here it is. In the admittedly less-than-ideal light of the dining room. It's not half bad! I still can't see myself working on a full-out, bed sized dwr quilt. But if I ever were to, it would be the inverted variety. I am pleased with it, and that is ultimately why I do the things I do - to make myself happy. Particularly when it comes to quilting and sewing.
Last night was also the start of doll-making. I have most of a doll put together. Tonight her head will go on her, and I will start figuring out costuming for her. She may skip the hair - because if I can get a hat on her, it will completely cover up her hair anyway.
I've been musing more on the things I do and why I do them - not the obvious, like jobs and such. These are the "other" things - the things that most people would consider a little odd/offbeat. Strangely, quilting falls into that category. I don't understand that, but I come from a crafting family. My sister sews, my mother used to sew and embroider, my father works in wood... and we were always offered the opportunity to play with all sorts of crafts. Drawing, coloring, making little red clay pots at our grandparents' house... even dyeing with beets. In an old iron pot outside. Sewing doll clothes with scrap fabric at my great-aunt's house, sitting in the living room.
It was never a big deal - it was a part of life. We were given the chance to explore our world, wherever that world happened to be. We weren't rich, not with two teachers for parents, but we took road trips, and we learned things wherever we were. My parents encouraged curiosity and thinking. We went to the zoo a lot, and learned about animals. We went to libraries - not just the closest one to us, but to several different ones. Despite always having overdue books, I always had library books. We were encouraged to read. We learned about other places and other times, and learned to tell good writing from bad. We went to museums - my hometown of San Antonio has a fair number, and we went to a lot of them. I still have favorites. We learned about art and saw things we wouldn't have otherwise.
All of that combined to create in me a passion for creating. I cannot draw to save my life, and most of my crafting skills do not produce exactly what I have in my mind. But it's not going to discourage me from trying. Because above all, we learned not to quit. We were instilled with that love of learning - maybe not in school, maybe not traditional learning - but we learned to hang on to the curiosity. That has carried me far, and tinges everything that I do now. While others may say 'it can't be done,' my family is in the back of my mind saying 'go for it. give it a shot.'
As far as the rest - the stilt-walking, the sewing of costuming, the writing, the ren faire... and anything else that I decide to take up - it's curiosity that drives me. That, and the desire to learn. As long as I live, I hope to be learning. If I can pass that on to others, it makes it all worth the effort. Strangely, looking back, I don't see that my parents "worked" at getting us to learn the things they taught us. They just lived their lives, and we saw them doing and enjoying. And it's still the case - they are still learning, and showing us the way.
So here's to curiosity. Maybe I'll build on the dwr and call it curiosity. Just because I want to see what happens with it.
S
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