Every year at this time I face a conundrum in my garden.
You see, I have a little condition known around our house as tulip mania. We’ve even given it a theme song (sung to the tune of The Damned song Psychomania, fyi).
So when the tulips begin popping up in April, I get dorkily excited. But then the heartbreaking decision: do I cut them?
On the one hand, I get to see them and enjoy them more when they’re on my dining room table then, say, getting trampled by kids and dogs in our parking strip. But I know the moment I cut them they begin to die, and unlike a flowering bush or tree, bulbs are sort of a one-time-use flower. Once you cut the bloom, it’s gone.
I thought of this internal struggle again as I cleaned out my fabric stash a little this week.
Sure, I know I should use all the gorgeous fabrics I already own. I have boxes of them! But something about the thought of using them makes them feel less permanent.
When a fabric is just a fabric it has so much creative potential. You can imagine finding the perfect use for it.
Once you cut into it and make a garment, it starts to be used and in a way, starts to decay. All things move toward their end, as they say.
I don’t consciously think of all this when I choose not to sew from my stash, of course. But in the back of my mind, perhaps there is a fear of ruining something I love in itself.
How do you push past the fear of destroying what you have by using it?