Once upon a time, as I was sculpting a Play-Doh forest--one of many over the years--during a conference call, my co-worker called me "irrepressibly creative". I'm always doodling or sculpting or making something.
I'm not a good drawer/painter, generally, but I tend to be able to carve out little artsy-craftsy niches and once I find a thing I like, I like to refine it, do a lot of it, and drive my interest into the ground.
When I do a thing, I really like to exhaust it, y'know?
Might as well, I'm already in that mode. The supplies are already there.
It becomes a compulsion, of sorts.
Hence all the felt.
I procured my Grandpa's old 2 1/4 inch button maker (nothing fancy, just a hand-press) and I already had stacks of my grandma's old magazines from the 60s.
So my latest project has been button making with vintage images and phrases. Part of the challenge is finding the phrases within the old magazines. I think I'd be easier to just make up my own and print them out, but it's not as fun. So it's become a Thing.https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10110009702937010.1073741836.13953311&type=1&l=dc180a867c
I didn't post some of the saucier ones in there. There is a lot of innuendo. I haven't exhausted my interest yet, so on I go. I don't have any use for dozens and dozens of buttons, but I'll probably keep a few and then sell the rest on etsy (how much would one charge? $3?) or trade them for other peoples' quirky art-adjacent stuff, or even just give them away to friends who want them.
It's so weird. I don't know why I do this kind of thing. It seems oddly obsessive. In a way it feels very much like these Things, these various Projects, are a way of meditating or balancing out my mental health. I don't know that that's far off.This entry was originally posted at http://pen-grunt.dreamwidth.org/507404.html. Please comment there using OpenID.