Lesson Learned

I've been very focused on making 2 pairs of tiny shoes, and on finishing my Coffee fairy.  I had my time all scheduled, what work I was going to do on these projects every day to have them all done by tomorrow.  However, the best laid plans have a way of going awry.  Sunday morning, before sitting down to embroider the second last line on my Coffee Fairy's costume, I had a wee bit of an accident with a glass cup and suffered a severe laceration to my right thumb.  Instead of stitching, I spent my day in the emergency room getting stitched back together.

Monday should have had me embroidering the last line on the costume, and making insoles.  Only, I found myself unable to pick up anything, let alone a needle or scissors.  Truly, it's amazing how much we rely on our use of opposable thumbs.  Basic personal care, feeding myself, picking up a pen to sign my name, are all very difficult to impossible tasks for me right now.  As I sat here staring at almost finished projects, I had to wonder, what do I do if I can't ever pick up a needle again.  Needle arts have been a part of my life for 24 years now, what will life look like without that?

Probably I should be more concerned with how I'm going to work my regular day time job, but I really have no care about that.  I'll find out how that works when I arrive Thursday morning.  That alone opened my eyes as to how important my work as an artist is to me.  Really, what will I do if I can't pick up a needle again?  That thought is sickening, but I'd find something else creative to do.  I suppose I'd explore more machine stitching.  Precise cutting of fabrics isn't a possibility if I can't use scissors, so I might have to embrace the more free process of rip and tear.  I might think about thinks like abstract painting, holding a paintbrush in a fist rather than between thumb and finger.  The same method might be applicable to needle punch embroidery.  I'm creative.  I'm determined.  If it comes down to having to find a new creative outlet, I will (though I pray that won't be the case).

One of my art mentors suggested I ask myself what this accident creates an opportunity for.  I suppose it gave me the opportunity to stop.  Stop doing the things I want, the things I don't want, stop everything, stop doing nothing.  Just stop, and sit and listen.  In that stillness, I get to hear my thoughts, and hear what my heart really longs for.  I've learned that art is a huge part of the person I am-which now means I can stop the nonsense thoughts of "maybe I should stop wasting my time playing artist".  This was a good lesson in learning to use and cherish our individual gifts, because at any time, they can be taken away.  It's easier to prioritise which projects are most important for me to do, when I think, "if this is the last time I get to make something in this life, is this what I want to be making?".

Though I'm not a bit thankful for this situation, I value the lessons learned.