Blocked
Let me first state- I'm no angel in this department at the best of times. I have motivation issues just getting up every morning, much less getting everything else done. However, I thought I'd talk to you about a different kind of motivational issue that I've been experiencing the past year or so.
Last summer, today, we had the Las Conchas fire in New Mexico kick off. At its height, it sat about a quarter of a mile from my house for about 2 weeks and I was a gibbering wreck that could barely function.
The first two days of the fire when people were being evacuated and all that jazz, I was starting my wool blanket that I've been working on for the past year at a workshop held by the lovely Country Bumpkin folks (who, bless them, were ever so nice and supportive and let me cry in a corner).
I worked on the blanket for those days solidly, and then couldn't deal with it at home after that. Everytime I looked at it, much less thought about working on it, I could feel the fire angst and pain creeping back in. There was a good few months where I couldn't even look at it. So work was very sporadic on it. A good weekend here, an evening there.
Its been interesting because this has been a type of motivation issue that I haven't quite experienced before. But in talking with it with others, I've found similar stories. Losses that interrupt a craft and make finishing it difficult, sometimes impossible.
For me, my memories have been distilled in this blanket. I can't shake them loose, no matter how I try. And while last summer I was convinced that if I ever finished it I would have to give it away, far away to someone I never visit, now I'm almost certain that I won't be able to do that. I'll have to keep it to keep those memories safe. Somehow, things have gotten confused.
But, miraculously, I've also managed to get this damn thing done. Pushed through the blockage and, in fits and bursts, gotten it all done.
That's probably more of an accomplishment than even finishing.
Last summer, today, we had the Las Conchas fire in New Mexico kick off. At its height, it sat about a quarter of a mile from my house for about 2 weeks and I was a gibbering wreck that could barely function.
The first two days of the fire when people were being evacuated and all that jazz, I was starting my wool blanket that I've been working on for the past year at a workshop held by the lovely Country Bumpkin folks (who, bless them, were ever so nice and supportive and let me cry in a corner).
I worked on the blanket for those days solidly, and then couldn't deal with it at home after that. Everytime I looked at it, much less thought about working on it, I could feel the fire angst and pain creeping back in. There was a good few months where I couldn't even look at it. So work was very sporadic on it. A good weekend here, an evening there.
Its been interesting because this has been a type of motivation issue that I haven't quite experienced before. But in talking with it with others, I've found similar stories. Losses that interrupt a craft and make finishing it difficult, sometimes impossible.
For me, my memories have been distilled in this blanket. I can't shake them loose, no matter how I try. And while last summer I was convinced that if I ever finished it I would have to give it away, far away to someone I never visit, now I'm almost certain that I won't be able to do that. I'll have to keep it to keep those memories safe. Somehow, things have gotten confused.
That's probably more of an accomplishment than even finishing.
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