Most projects are easy. See some inspiration, pick a pattern, choose the fabric, and off you go. They come together smoothly and beautifully. A lot of the time at least.
This is not one of those projects.
But that's OK.
These are bits of someone's childhood here in a pile, treasured clothing and linens and even a piece of a sleeping bag. It's a commission job for young boy who is going off to a therapeutic boarding school and needs a piece of home to take with him.
And his parents need him to take a piece of home with him too.
My task is to make art out of his memories. Their memories.
No stress there, right? (wrong)
So now I sit and sketch and arrange and squint and fold and stack and worry about making something that will measure up. It's a lot of pressure and angst.
Then I think about what his parents must be feeling.
And I realize I have the easy job after all, so I refocus on the task at hand.
Only by the grace of god go I.