Creative time that matters: The mental space of longer term craft projects

Spending five months sewing something which could have been done in a week may sound like a bit of a craft fail, but over 2018 I discovered the joy of taking my time over a creative project.

A few months into 2018, and my creative spark wasn't firing.  You might know this itchy feeling yourself. Drawing was frustrating, making jewellery for myself wasn't fun, other possible projects felt uninspiring. It was an upsetting place to be in as someone who deems themselves to be a creative person.

My husband hit the nail on the head in July "Why don't you do a longer project, one you can work on a bit at a time and create a bigger result?". I realised that I'd been trying quick fixes, so no wonder they weren't satisfying my creative needs!

All of my creative endeavours either require my very engaged and total attention, or are a surprisingly swift and almost production line in process. What was missing was something requiring my focus, but simple enough to enjoy when "not-all-there". A craft I could pick up and enter a quiet mental space with, for ten minutes, or three hours, and then put down again.

I ventured into Castle Donington, to scour the craft kits in The Two Birds Gallery. The Corinne Lapierre sewing kits looked just demanding enough, with a useful end product. I settled on a kit to sew three felt peacocks, and also popped to some other local shops and come home with a plum liqueur too. Whoops...

There can be something liberating about just following a pattern! I'm so used to working out designs of my own, that making a choice as simple as picking a colour, then cutting and sewing, was honestly relaxing. ​I also added some seed beads, some of my garden lavender to make them into scented sachets, and took great pride in my increasingly neat French Knots (my Daisy Stitch is still a bit rubbish!).

​Times where I might have been blank in front of the TV, anxiously mulling over business, or fruitlessly rattling around my studio, I was instead sewing away. Each decorated feather was a little achievement, each full peacock a real sense of accomplishment. If you've ever returned to an old skill, or pushed out and tried something new, you'll know there's a delight in finding you can still do that lapsed hobby, or when you finally nail the new technique. ​

After five months of occasional crafting, I had three peacock lavender sachets, in time to give my grandma one as a Christmas gift. I probably could have belted through them all in a week, but completing them wasn't really the goal. What mattered was relishing the process, being engaged wholly in each stitch and every decision. 

Much has been said about the value of arts and creativity as an aid to mental wellbeing, and these three peacocks provided me with something to do when my brain was moving around, and needed engaging productively. You might do something similar yourself, a bit of time or a whole evening, as required, painting miniatures, working on a tapestry, whatever keeps your mind and hands happy together, away from everything else going on in your life.

If you do feel the benefits of slow and steady progress on a creative project, I'd love to hear what you do in the comments below. I've already picked up two little wooden sewing kits from Under the Rowan Trees as my next project, so more ideas are welcome!