With nothing to do on a Saturday night, our default course of action is to slip in the latest offering from Netflix. Last week we tried something different: a craft project. We have this room in our house we call the Art Room; it’s really our sunroom, but it’s where we keep the cabinet that stores all of our cardmaking and knitting supplies. When the need for the occasional card comes up, we’ll drag out the supplies, make it, then file everything away again. It’s not an efficient process, and often the effort to get started prevents us from going through with it.
My idea was to create a stockpile of blank homemade cards. Right now we probably send cards half as frequently as we should. With a file of cards to choose from, the turnaround time will be significantly lower, and even the tiniest act of generosity will earn the gift-giver a dash of our homemade gratitude. So with a dining table arrayed with an impressive collection of papers, string, grommets, adhesives, a Xyron, and other trinkets of the scrapbooking generation, we sat down and got to crafting.
Two hours later we had created about a dozen different cards. It doesn’t sound like a lot now, given that there were two of us and we were skipping the hardest part of making a card—writing the message. But we took our sweet time on each one, trying to draw out the creativity and outcraft the crafter across from us. For me, at least, the production of the cards was really a secondary goal. Mostly, I was interested any kind of project that would force us into a mode of creation instead of consumption. I love watching movies and reading books, but sometimes the consumerist nature of it all builds up for me and I feel the need to create something. This time it was cards, and it was the perfect antidote for quiet Saturday night.
The next day, with the creative juices still running high, we took on a new craft entirely: canning. Story to come.