Inside my head a...

momentous decision has been taken.

I am no longer going to kid myself I have an

artistical bone in my body: the sad fact is...

I frigging haven't!

There I've said it.

All along I've kidded myself: alright, yes, on occasions and with a following

wind, I have turned out 'stuff' that folk have bought with their hard earned cash.

Over the years I've squirrelled away fabric of all textures, colours and hues.

To what end LL?

This morning was a case in point, I thought I'll get cracking on a

mish-mash of odds and ends of material; a veritable sewn pot-pourri;

Salvador Dali meets Christina Rossetti... 

they make mad passionate love on my fabric pyre.

Hot is the word.

The end result; with my tweaking, will be the envy of all.

In my 'studio' (Well you would call it that, wouldn't you, if you had

delusions of crafting grandeur?) I pulled out all interesting snippets on which to start this amazing masterpiece.  A few minutes in, and already the will to sew was dwindling fast.

Thoughts of past projects filled my mind; the angels, cushions, bunting, needlecases, bags, curtains, badges, keyrings, pincushions, hairclips, dolls, denim, corsages...

cortage more like.

NO... STOP!
'Who you kidding any road?'

What to do now, that's the big problem?
Shall I become a writer?  At least with my sore thumb I can bang away
on the ole keyboard without doing too much damage.
A patchwork of thoughts and feelings; sounds good to me!  
I'll flog off all the crafting geegaws 
and with the money buy myself a revolving shed like
George Bernard Shaw.

  
I'm just off now to check out ebay...