I deleted a paragraph from my post yesterday about how my anxiety is affecting my progress. I should have left it in. Basically, I was repeatedly browning out. I’d catch myself sitting or standing completely still, mind blank, like someone wiped my operating system. It’s a stress reaction I’ve come to expect from myself.
Here’s the big secret. My anxiety has beaten me in the past. I usually become physically ill and am unable to fully complete whatever it is, or just barely make it through. I need to make it through this pair of contests. The reward is worth it. The outfit will be gorgeous and help complete another ensemble. I’ll get to share my art. I don’t want to barely make it through, I want to finish strong.
So right now I’m fighting my anxiety. It has me on the ropes, and I desperately want to rally.
Anxiety lies. Turns deadlines into lions. Seizes momentum.
What truth awaits breaking through Entanglements of falsehoods?
I’m steadily working my way through the steps, one by one. I’ve finished marking the sleeves and am moving on to pinning them for stitching.
I paused after stitching the sleeves. I’m not positive how to join the lining to the upper. Right now I’m likely to fall back on whip stitches. Because order of operations for that is still jumbled in my head, I did not attach the sleeves to the lining. It may be best to finish the sleeves independently and attach the finished sleeves to the finished garment.
That makes it time to cut out the brocade.
I took the time to fiddle with my serger. It’s all but seized up. So that will not be an option for edging which means I’m overcasting the edge with a zig-zag stitch using my regular sewing machine.
The brocade is kinda icky. I had to change from my ceramic marking pencil to a broader (and less precise) chalk marker. Ugh. But there’s brocade in the floor and it’s slowly becoming covered in chalk marks. On the back. Because the fabric pulls if you mark the front. Boo.