I have a lot of feelings about stuff, and sometimes it’s hard to write about. This past month has been one of those times.
As I sit staring at a long overdue project, it came to me that one of the reasons why I don’t talk about my work more often is the internal monologue that says (to paraphrase) “Oh, it’s so hard, it’s not going to be good enough. I’m never going to be able to finish it.” I know for a fact many other makers feel this way and so, as a way to hold myself (and others) accountable, I am here to say:
That line of thinking is bullshit.
We are makers. We are driven by a secret fire to create things for a variety of reasons: because we are fulfilling a need that the market isn’t filling. Because there is a communal demand not being met. Because we are able to create an income making what we love. Because we are doing for ~for the aesthetic~. All of these reason are valid.
We need to give ourselves permission to finish a project, even if it’s not perfect. Even if it’s not financially cheaper than a factory-made object. Even if it means risk of rejection.
Your craft is going to be hard. It is going to take you out of your comfort zone. It is going to make to learn new things, make new friends, bring competition to your door. It is going to meet a need you may not even recognize until it’s done.
Your craft is going to be hard and you should do it anyways.
80% Comfort, 20% Experience
Comfort zones are great. Once you become skills in making an object, or learning a new technique, it’s a part of your comfort arsenal. When a shirt took you 2 days to make, and the next you make it it’s a day. The time after that it’s 6 hours. Comfort zones are excellent to have in that the things you have experience making gives you the ability to be fast and efficient.
That being said, there’s a difference in having a comfort zone to create efficiency in your life, and using your comfort zone as a crutch to learning new things.
For years I avoided knitting colorwork patterns. I felt that I wasn’t experienced enough or that I wasn’t good enough to create good faire isle objects. In the beginning it was partly true, and then it stopped being true when I was thrown into the deep end of expectations during a major freelance project. In three weeks I learned how to knit faire isle stranding, create gauges with colorwork, and to alter my tension to achieve the correct look. After that, I decided to stick to the mantra “80% comfort, 20% experience” when teaching myself new things. I got tired of my comfort zone.
Holding Yourself Accountable
I’m not going to act like this article is revealing another facet of life from “The Secret”, and as a personal opinion I’m not a believer in “emanating what you want into the universe” vibes. I’m a believer in “doing the work”. That also means doing the work with (and sometimes without) the help of your support system. When it comes to holding yourself accountable, learn techniques of what does and does not work for you. Do you work better alone or in a group? Do you and your friends text each other to motivate and encourage yourselves to get the work done? Or are you most productive at certain times of the day? These are questions everyone should ask when they have trouble completing (or even starting) projects.
So today, I’m holding myself accountable by working on some long-neglected projects. It’s hard, but I’m going to do it anyways.
Accepting Completion Over Perfection
I’m not going to lie, this is something I still struggle with. There are massive parts of the crafting community (and I’m not including professionals in this discussion, that’s a whole other can of worms) that feel that they can’t show work because it’s not perfect.
You know what? That’s okay. If you complete it and you can use it, or view it, or present it, it’s a whole lot better than not finishing it at all. It it better to spend a hundred days finishing a project than to have never finished it at all.
I’m not saying give yourselves an excuse to be sloppy or cut corners. If you need to take the extra time to do a project right, you’ll thank yourself when you make the same object again. Getting sloppy will only mean frustration and tears down the road. Trust me, I’ve been there.
At the end of the day, what you do and how you craft is going to be up to you. It might be hard, but you should do it anyways.