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World travelling, north of the 49th living, Caribbean born, Barcelona dreaming makeup artist. A motionless perpetual motion machine.
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Working it out - the Ghost of Old Years past.

In the past I have made some commitments regarding my time, commitments which I have not always been able to keep. Truth be told, I was well aware that I could not keep them even as I agreed to try. More times than not, these time commitments were promises I made to myself. Trying to get anything of any real substance done can be difficult when you work 12+ hours a day but there are always reasons for not doing things, I need to focus more on the reasons why meeting these commitments are so important.

While studying Fashion Arts, I could work out any assignment from Pattern Drafting, Design, Fashion Illustration even Marketing the night before the assignment was due, but ask me to actually make a project and sew the dang thing together and I would hit a mental block. Honestly, I could do 12 hours of pattern drafting but I would go into some type of catatonic shock at the idea of sewing for 30 minutes.

Even when I did sew something together, I often stalled at the finishing. I have a chest full of items awaiting buttons and zippers, linings made but never inserted into jackets, pockets never seamed, hems never turned.

Once I knew how the project was going to look finished, the finishing never seem all that important.
After a couple of decades still hemless and buttonless!
Not much has changed in all these years, I just can not seem to handle the idea of sewing/finishing.

And yet, sewing is part of the design process. Not in the obvious way, but I could get a truer sense of how things felt and worked once I sat down with the pieces to put them all together. It was much like working on a puzzle, the slow reveal and the sense of satisfaction.

The pressing of the seams as I went along did give me the chance to do the final visualisation of the project before completion. It was during this time that the fabric and the design elements all gelled together in my busy busy mind. It often was when that moment of clarity happened for me and I truly liked what I had designed. Or not.

In school, pressing seams with each seam stitched was mandatory, I was (am) much more of a do it all at the end kind of student. The 'proper way' made sewing that much more disagreeable, for as much as I disliked sewing, I disliked ironing/pressing more. I know quite a few people who find ironing relaxing, not I. Pressing pleats and seams, ironing wrinkles and creases? *shudder* The fact that we had to learn the difference between ironing and pressing was enough to make me think the whole thing tedious beyond belief.

Funny, how the things we run from chase us through our lives.

(previously posted on Yes, Mistress blogspot)
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