Where sunlight penetrates
Photos by VickyTH.
For the last two weeks I’ve been alternately working on a bunch of projects, the most significant, massive, organisationally challenging and lucrative of these being a weekend of workshops for a local quilt guild. I’ve organised notes, made up worksheets, made list after list after list of things to bring, bought supplies, enlisted friends to help measure out fabric paints (Nice friends. Really nice friends. The kind that deserve chocolate chip cookies.), and torn my hair out at various intervals. Well, tomorrow is the weekend. After Sunday, it will be over. The workshops will have been done and finished for this autumn.
I know that a large part of my nervousness and feeling of being overwhelmed has been because I simply haven’t done one of these before. Truth be told, I’m actually not at all nervous about actually teaching. I can handle that. What makes my skin itch is thinking that I might have forgotten something. The location of the quilting retreat is an hour out of town and a good ways away from other things. I don’t have the luxury of forgetting paper towels, or something along those lines, as there isn’t even a convenience store nearby.
Plus there’s the added fact that I have to leave at seven in the morning and drive for an hour on the highway before the coffee hits my bloodstream. But it’s mostly the possibility of forgetting something obvious that is getting to me.
Hopefully it will all go well anyway.
The other problem is that the two workshops are actually only tangentially related to each other. One is fabric painting and the other is landscape design and contruction. Obviously they both involve fabric and obvious they both form a part of my work, but rarely do I ever do them both on the same day. In fact, I tend to do them completely seperately and generally don’t sew in the weeks that I paint and vice versa. So mentally jumping from one to the other and switching from remembering all of the paraphernalia for one to all of the gear for the other is a bit of a leap.
We’ll see how it goes. Report on Monday, or whenever I recover. If it goes well, I might get into this regularly (knock on wood).