Wednesday, October 13, 2010


I want to make toys.  I want to have a studio filled with darling stuffed creations.  Dolls, bears, lambs.  I want to have a table at a craft fair covered in baskets full of toys that make children squeal with delight.

But, as a self-taught sewer, I'm constantly stuggling with creating three dimensional fabric projects.  Seams don't match-up.  Stuffing spills out.  Eyes look crossed.  And another doll goes into what I lovingly call the "Frankenstein Pile".  Once I've created the hideous creatures, I can't bring myself to throw them away.  It's as if I've brought them to life and now I'm responsible for caring for them. 

The funny thing is, as hard as I am on myself about my Frankenstein Pile, my daughter regularly comes into my studio and stands before it and looks longingly at it.  She wants to adopt each and everyone.  She thinks they are cute.  To me they are record of my failure.  To her, they are beautiful.

So, as long as she sees a glimmer of cuteness in my creations, I'm going to keep trying to become the toymaker I dream to be.  My latest obsession is to create a fabric doll.  In my first try, the head was uneven and weird and I thought she needed to rounder.  My second creation was definately "rounder" but she lost her personality when I took the edges off.  I'll try again in a few days, but in the meantime, I know these two aren't ever going to make it to the Frankenstein pile.