Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Sewing Machine Conundrums


I'm struggling today. It should've been this over-creative day, but it hasn't been. My sewing machine seems to want to create knots, instead of stitches. It started last night. I was almost done sewing a pocket into my bag-from-pillowcase when the needle went down, but didn't come back up. It just growled at me. I played around with it, cut off the excess thread, and tried again, but it continued to growl at me.

I tried again today, thinking it needed some time to cool it's jets -- but whatever. It decided that it wanted to run things. It thinks knots are way better than stitches. It thinks jamming is the best. It giggles when it does this. It decided to kill my creativiy, my chance to create something, and instead, I sit around in my sweat-shorts being absolutely uncreative. Sure, writing is creative, writing is a creation from me, but can I carry things in a piece of writing? Minus memories and metaphor, can I actually carry something with my writing?
Not so much.

I worked on other classwork to my dissatisfaction. My back hurts, too. I think the sewing machine did it when I wasn't looking. As I bent over to throw away scraps, it hit me. It took the bobbin out and just smacked me with it. I think I heard it call me, "an arse." I opened the purple plastic cover where the bobbin sits and blew in it as punishment, but it decided to still not work. Then it wrote a poem about how it hates society and wishes for anarchy. I told it to grow up and to allow me to finish my bag, but it sat and sulked like a teenager trying to get her own way. So far, it's winning. It just wants to knot up my thread like bad drama and propaganda.

Maybe I'll brave it again, and try giving it an attitude adjustment. It might be a tension-thing. I will need to play with it some more, but the more time I give to it, the more time it wastes, like a bunch of sad teenagers hanging around a basement on a rainy day asking each other, "what do you want to do?"

As I sat with my back aching from being attacked by anon sewing machine, I decided to make some tea. Tea always helps. Tea is therapy for the soul, and such, especially the green kind. I went into the kitchen and realized I could've cleaned the bathrooms when the sewing machine was giving me it's hissy fit, but cleaning bathrooms isn't creative. I don't leave a clean bathroom feeling like I've created something.

I knew that wasn't going to be today. The sewing machine was already on my bad side. Hair, nasty, gunk and ew sitting around the bathroom sink wasn't going to help my mood. I would douse the bathroom with lighter fluid and ignite it. I would then run to the dining room and toss the sewing machine in the fire.