Sunday, May 6, 2018

War wound.

Two words:

Sewing injury.

Six words:

Sewing injury not involving anything sharp.

Did you even know those existed? I didn't. I do now.

I've been suffering with this war wound for two weeks now, and I'm pretty certain I'll never have full function of my hand again. Okay, that might be pushing it -- a little. 

For those of us who aren't seasoned seamstresses/sewists, let me warn you, you can seriously hurt the joint in your thumb. The girls and I worked furiously for 5 days, measuring, cutting, pinning, sewing, more pinning, more sewing. I am still paying for it. In fact, I think it's gotten worse. What started as a tight, muscular cramping is now a constant, dull, hot aching in the joint.

I know what it needs, but the creator in me is not willing to do it. I have so many ideas swirling around in my head that if I stop accomplishing them I may implode. I wonder if that really is the cause of death for most artists- the inability to produce their inspiration.

So, I'm left with a dilemma. Deny who I am and DIE (I'm pretty good with the exaggerations today) or push through a little pain. No, there is no in-between, don't be ridiculous.   

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