Show and tell

 

All my life I have learned from books.  At school and afterwards, to figure out life, I have turned to books to explain.  I trust words.  Written words in particular.  It's no coincidence that I should choose as my first craft project to spell out words in fabric!

So, when I want to know how to do something new, my instinct is to buy a book.  When I took up photography a few years back, I bought shelves full of books about technique, and bought beautiful photography books for inspiration.  I took a writing class last year, and another pile of books sat by my bed.  I thought, and still do, that by reading about what motivates writers, what gets them to sit down at their computers every day in front of a flashing cursor,  some of that motivation might seep into me.

Now, I am discovering that this crafting business is a bit different.  I can read how to crochet chain stitch, but how much better to be shown how to crochet, as here.

But I have not quite kicked the habit.  I have been leafing through this over the weekend and  it's absolutely lovely.

 

Forgive the dodgy photography - taken under lamplight but the illustrations are too lovely not to give you an idea.  

And the book is full of step-by-step instructions on how to make everything from a simple apron to winter curtains.  And lots of helps with seams and other things that novices like me find so tricky.

And fab drawings and photos to show you how lovely an egg cosy can be (who knew?)

I bought the book on impulse last year.  I had no idea why.  I didn't even tell Mr. P about it.  I sneaked it into the house and shoved it onto the top shelf like a dirty mag because I couldn't quite admit that I might be the kind of person that would want to sew.  But that was before I saw the cloth letters and the woman in Peter Jones helped me pick out some fabric.  She told me a story about when she first got married and she wanted to learn how to make a cake.  Whenever her husband went out for the afternoon, she would get out a recipe book and follow it slavishly.  She said she must have made half a dozen flops before she had a cake that she was prepared to show her husband.  "Just practice", she told me.  "You'll be fine."

When I got home, I knew exactly where I would go for my first lesson.  A book.

And even as I write this, I know I am distracting myself with words from the fact that I have not yet learned how to make my first granny square.  This is where I've got to so far.

Somehow, 'granny rhomboid' doesn't have the same cozy ring to it...

Claire