explainin loooosy

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Thursday, 8 August 2013

Pirates Captains and Buccaneers

Someone asked me the other day if I blogged.
Deep in the recesses of my mind a cog turned and I remembered "I used to!" Then another wheel turned and I recalled that I actually enjoyed doing it too.
I will admit it took a few more levers, cogs and a hefty amount of WD40 to remember my password. But now my mind is fully lubricated and the rust has begun to shed, so back to the keyboard we go.

Due to life changing events that I can't a) be bothered talking about and b) literally would rather bury my head in the sand about - I am sewing again. And I like it!

Now, when I start a new creation, I usually begin with a blobby, misty shape of a thing in my head and will start gaining momentum as I go.
I am not a planner.
In fact the ideas are all in my fingers. My brain is merely there to shoot the electrical sparks required to get the muscles moving. I can feel my fingers talking to each other while they work and there is usually one who is yelling out things like "faster! you scurvy maggots. There'll be no dinner for you until this coat is done..." you get the idea.

In fact my fingers have been quite salty of late, because the last thing I made was a pirate. In fact, a rather swarthy Buccaneer.
My fingers have had a field day with this. Do you know how many accessories a pirate has? Think about it - cutlass, eye patch, hook, wooden leg, parrot, blunderbuss, hats, coats the list goes on. The more I made the more my fingers wanted, they became quite agitated, irate even that my puny little brain could not keep pace to their demands.
I finally had to take charge and draw the line, lest my Buccaneer become swamped in a sea of cliches and all you could see of him was a hook poking out of a deep sea chest with a parrot wearing an eye patch sitting on top.
"No" I told my fingers. Still they kept working. I could hear them murmuring about mutiny but I kept on going.

At last he was complete. But they did have one final victory. I found an eye patch stitched to his face. How did it get there? I have my suspicions. Which were confirmed when I looked down at my hand to see them all hiding in my palm, all but one defiant member, standing straight up in the middle.

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