Another Writing Assigment

I've totally slacked with my writing assignments. I printed all of my lessons out and have been reading and studying them, but I haven't exactly gotten around to many of the homework assignments. That is the trouble with a cyber classroom - no accountability. But unlike the days when I dragged myself to boring classes because I HAD to, this class is important to me. It's something that I really want to do.

So at lunch today I was completely unmotivated to work out or walk in the cold gray weather. Instead, I logged into my classroom, read the latest lesson and actually did my assignment. I even posted it in the virtual classroom and my instructor gave me kudos. I feel like a little kid getting good grades. So satisfying. I think the only reason I had the nerve to post this was because I was the first to do so. Every time I log in and read the work of the others in the classroom, I get completely intimidated. Those folks are real writers. I don't want to embarrass myself. But then again . . . nobody knows who I am so what the heck.

Anyway, today's assignment was to write about something that I taught myself. It had all sorts of parameters like it must have a title, it must start with a question, and other requirements, but I won't bore you with the details. This is what I wrote:

The Art of Making Something from Nothing

Who wouldn’t want to create a work of art from useless scraps?

I haven’t discovered many new crafts that I didn’t want to try. Seems I have an insatiable itch for crafts that needs constant scratching. Nothing thrills me more than creating something with my own two hands. And the inspiration that I feel when I walk into a craft store is indescribable. My head spins with all the different ways to be creative.

There is just something about the glorious feeling that comes over me when I walk into a fabric store. There are so many colors, so many patterns, so many choices, so much potential. My mind reels with the nonstop ideas that flood into my brain.

It may be my inner artist that lures me into new and challenging projects. It may be the pack rat in me that loves the idea of not wasting anything – even scraps of fabric. There must be something that I can make with those!

My road to quilting wasn’t a smooth one. It all started about 10 years ago. I bought my first quilting book and experimented with lots of trial and error. I talked to other quilters, got some tips, practiced, and practiced some more. There were lots of mistakes, not much patience, a little (OK a lot) of cursing, and even some bloodshed. But the sense of accomplishment I feel when I sit back and marvel at the quilts that hang on the wall makes it all worth it. Looking at the beautiful pieces, that I made, I don’t remember the struggles. I only feel the sense of pride of what I accomplished. Months ago a worthless pile of scraps and today a precious family heirloom.