Changed Another Blade

For whatever reason, the act of cutting fabric was like shaking out my soul. Down through history, cutting is symbolic for releasing, for letting go of relationships or events and for closure on any sort of issue. For awhile, it was believed that we cut people out of our lives, yet a kinder way is more to release than to sever. Cutting is also painful.

I know. Not too long ago I cut the tip of my index finger with the rotary blade. Experience has taught me to release and how to release.

However, fabric must be cut for better use in quilts, or in failing that, it will be released or given away to someone who can use it.

I finished cutting scraps in two bins, reducing the volume in them by half. After changing a second rotary blade for this project, I decided it was enough cutting for this session.

More squares were added to the shoe-boxes that I also labeled with sizes, as well as colorizing some and doing a count to how many squares were in the box. With this information, I can grab and go to make a quilt when I get a pattern for one.

One shoe-box is filled to capacity with the 2.5" strips.
My plan is to sew strips end to end & use them for binding on one of the random quilts.  None of these boxes is really very neat, however, they are much more accessible for a quilting project.

Nothing was tossed in this activity. The small scraps have been tossed into this basket, over-flowing. The plan is to fill a fleece sack that will become a Grand-dog or Grand-cat's bed. Usually these bits went into the trash.

I admit that the shaking out of my soul had a lot to do with releasing. Some things in life are painful and unavoidable. Life is this creative experience whether or not we have children, whether we paint, or sew, garden or walk in the forest. 

Cutting / releasing things that no longer serve us in their current state is a way to see the world fresh.

All my cluttered bins of fabric were getting in my way and I had to take this time to do something about it or continue being frustrated when I went looking for something. It was like they represented other difficult people and things that needed my attention.  No one saw my bins, so no one really knew how frustrated having that clutter was for me. No one knew how hard it was for me to be creative living with a mess.

Yet, that might not be true. I think we do see more about each other than we talk about or share. This is  the Johari window every Pysch 101 class talks about. Read it down to see what is known to self and not known to self. Then read across to see what is known to others and not known to others. The more open we are in sharing, the less that is hidden to ourselves and the less others know about us. The reward of that is that the orange unknown is in our subconscious and begins to heal in this process.

My simple act of cutting fabric. Now you know. Now I know. Now I am known more to myself.