Wednesday, November 16, 2005
I am not a crafty person. Scissors, rulers, glue and glitter are foreign objects to be avoided.
Slicing, stapling, punching and perforating are skills that should require a license to perform, a license I do not have, don't want and would never be qualified for if such existed, which it does not. However, there is probably some OSHA regulation that covers their operation, and I couldn't meet that standard either.
However, I do admire the people who paste, fold, crimp and generally create things from paper, cloth, feathers, beads, sequins, yarn, ribbon, eyelets, buttons and various and sundry other odds and ends that take up vast spaces in small homes.
So, why, when I have this built-in aversion to crafty projects, did I get so excited at an open house that introduced me to scrapbooking? And isn't that a strange word? It serves as both noun and verb and doesn't do a good job with either.
And, yet, this 'scrapbooking' had a strange fascination for me when I bumped into it at The Paper Tree's Christmas open house in Sunnyside.
Before I knew it, I was seated at a table with several women who knew all about this hobby-or whatever it is-obsession was a word that was bandied about more than once.
Although each of us was being taught new techniques by the instructors, the others all understood terms that sounded suspiciously like an alien tongue to me, perhaps as spoken by little green men from the North Pole. Well, we were working at making Christmas cards, so my association wasn't that far-fetched.
While the others expertly cut, folded and glued, I fumbled along in what I hoped was unobserved imitation.
I don't know what it was, but I began to feel enthusiastic. Perhaps it was that warm, welcoming aroma of freshly brewed coffee that was being served, the verbal exchange of people working toward a common goal, or the friendly help extended to us by the scrapbooking demonstrators.
Or . . . perhaps . . . could it have been . . . that first, small, nagging itch that, if I'm not careful, could turn into that obsession they kept talking about?
I intend to leave that itch unscratched. I really am. I am determined to make only a very few cards to send to my dearest and nearest this holiday season.
I am limiting my output to only those chosen few because I don't think anyone else could possibly be ready for the kind of craftiness my clumsy, inexperienced, awkward, little digits will produce.