Stacking and Unstacking

I'm a stacker. Give me a surface, I create a stack. Fabric, bills, papers to be filed, books to read, you name it. I do not particularly like this habit of mine. I'd prefer that I file the papers instead of merely stacking them. I guess for me stacking is the first step in the process. It requires sorting like with like, making each group into it's own like minded stack. The issue for me is then the stacks sit, neglected. Sometimes they continue to grow, or, more often, I forget what the unifying theme of the stack was at the time I created it. So I unstack it, resort it into new stacks. Sometimes this sort and stack activity gives me illusion of accomplishment. Most times I see through it as rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. And yet, I still do it.

With the completion of Year of Yoni, this is where I find myself. Without the structure, the expectation, the commitment to produce one piece a week, I am spinning my wheels. Creating stacks of potential projects to "get to at some point," rather than actually working on a project. Sure, I've been using the sewing machine now that it is accessible, but I'm not making art. And while it is satisfying to whip up a pillow cover for the couch or curtains for the kitchen, it's not the same gratification, engagement, challenge, problem solving, experimentation, self expression, curiosity and energy boost that I experience when making art.

I am truly puzzled at this resistance in myself to begin new work. Am I avoiding it for a particular reason? Does the reason even matter? Why not just P-U-S-H and get started? I don't know. Art's not happening, but movement is inching along with the house. This movement could be due to art avoidance, but I'll take it. Movement is good. And how fun is this? The fabric on the pillow cover pictured above is called "Laurie's Leaf." I've had this upholstery scrap for at least 8 years and never once noticed the name. 

After writing recently about choosing a soft color for the now super brightly lit studio, I reconsidered my dark and dramatic color choices for the living room. While I love the dark aqua blue and believe the room would look fantastic painted that color, it's not a room I want to live in. It's a room I would admire in an architectural magazine, much like I love the minimal, crisp and clean atmosphere of Scandinavian rooms in all white and blond wood. I love that look, but it's not something I want to live with. Regardless, the color choice for the living room is now the soft green pictured in the center above. Behr color lemon mint.

And speaking of green, I decided to salvage the chalky, too yellowy, somewhat fluorescent green I ill-advisedly purchased for the kitchen. I mixed in much of the two dark aqua samples from the living room. I like the result. It may just get used in the kitchen after all. The yellowy green on the left is the original paint color, the cactus painted over it is the new mix.

And while I continue to change my mind about paint, I have settled on one thing. Shirt No. 1 by Sonya Philip of 100 Acts of Sewing is the first garment I am going to attempt to make for myself from scratch. The pattern arrived in the mail just now. (Hah! I thought I would turn off the computer, pull out some muslin, iron, and get started on the shirt, but then I linked to Sonya Philip's website and looked what I found there: the felt cervix project! Perhaps with this inspiration art will happen today in Laurie Land after all.)