We are having a Smockshop meeting tomorrow. It is going to be about the end of Smockshop as we know it and the future of the group formerly known as Smockshop.
It is 4am and I find myself thinking about how Smockshop has impacted my life in various ways. I've been thinking about this on and off for weeks now, but today I started thinking about how I forced my hands to sew the early smocks, sitting on my porch, needle in, needle out, one stitch at a time. It was painstakingly slow, but despite my usual lack of patience, I found myself sitting still for hours, willing myself to complete these smocks.
I only made a few this way since a bit later I set aside my sewing machine fears and finally learned how to thread my Mom's hand me down machine that I had begged off of her months earlier.
Since then sewing seems to be second nature to me and infects almost every piece of art I make these days. Sometimes when I'm sitting at my machine and freestyle stitching painted paper pictures, or doing illustrative sewing machine drawings, I think (as sappy as it sounds) there is no way I'd be here without Smockshop.
I'm always glad to watch and be a part of new things unfolding, but I also want to make a little space to say thanks to Smockshop for making me sew much better than I was.