Hoarder or Prepared?

Sometimes, when I watch "Hoarders" I think, "I am only one tragedy away from becoming a hoarder."  I am saved by the fact that I enjoy a purge almost as much as a binge.   Most creative people hoard.   I am making the declaration pretty confidently without exhaustive studies.  

One of my sisters hoards beads, the other fabric.  One of my friends, a spinner, covets every fiber producing animal she sees; lets just say she has as many as she can handle.  My Father is currently trying to whittle down his collection of art supplies which fills a 1200 square foot studio top to bottom side to side and in the middle.  ( I haven't decided yet if I am saved or cursed that he lives so far away that I can't easily take his crap off his hands and make it my own crap.)

Studio 5 - William Ferrar Renzulli

We see the possibility in everything.  We are artistic McGuivers, delighting in finding the perfect bobble in our stash to execute the creative urge that is pulsing at the moment.

Here is a current list of things that, once seen, must become a part of my pile (and this is just the 'work' related stuff.):

Wool and fibers - any and all - I will find a way to use it

Wool Sweaters and Tweeds - sorry Goodwill shoppers, but I have taken it all

Birds' nests - little miracles of construction

Feathers - also little miracles and useful in my animal sculptures

Random pieces of nature - interesting stones, sticks, stumps, gourds, roots, fungi, lichen, moss

Wooden Crates and Baskets - pretty AND useful!  I mean, you need something to hold all the stuff!

Miniatures and Props - if I come across something that one of my sculptures, present or future, can hold, sit on, consume, play, cook with, wear, look at, sit next to, be surrounded by, and/or climb, it comes to live on my shelf with the other props waiting to become a part of some genius creative vision

We have not even tackled the subject of whether or not you are an organized (anal retentive or OCD) hoarder or, more like me, a content-to-throw-it-in-the-most-convenient-place hoarder.  Let's save that discussion for next time.

Remember, you can't implement it, if you don't have it! ; )

(BTW - the only reason my hoard looks as beautifully organized as it is, is because I now have Kyla, a.k.a. Everything in Its Place, helping at Sarafina.) 

 

The Truth About Needle Felting

I have a pet peeve.  It bugs me when artists describe their work as "painstaking" and then proceed to elaborate on the amount of time, or stabs, or difficulty that is involved in their work.

Do they want us to feel sorry for them?  Are they trying to justify an out of kilter price tag?  Or do they really truly feel burdened by their creativity?  Maybe it's the first and/or second reason but I can't believe it could be the third.

Needle felting is fun.  No matter how many stabs it takes, every single poke is a split second of affirmation and achievement.  Further more, aside from the mis-stab that hurts your finger, even the bad stabs can be easily fixed. 

The process of stabbing the wool is rewarding but we have the additional enjoyment of our fibers.  (Imagine me here tossing lovely locks in the air with abandon and running through a field of bunny angora.)  At the risk of sounding like a looney, I am convinced that working with natural fibers is healing.  I even keep locks in my car to settle me when I feel my anxieties creeping in.

And, if you can believe it, there's more!  When you have finished your project, you have something to enjoy, or sell, or give as a gift.  It's all good.

No wonder the craft is spreading like wild fire.  It's affordable, easy to get started, and instantly rewarding.  And I believe those who are trying it are falling in love and will 'stick' with it - so to speak. 


So quit your whining felting artists!  I know the truth about needle felting and the rest of the world (or at least the 10 people who follow my blog) will now know too!

Happy felting.