Is it possible to overdose on self help? I have been obsessing over “who am I, what’s my purpose” blah, blah, blah while listening to every type of self help I can get my hands on. Why? Hell if I know. I guess I feel I should be making myself a better person. Why? Hell if I know. I haven’t killed anyone, I’m kind, well, except for the periods of mass peri-menopausal surges. Instead of just connecting with other women I am sitting in my studio playing with dolls and talking to the dog. Not that I am knocking that, but I think it’s time I get out of my comfort zone and talk to people who don’t pee on a wee-wee pad.
All this blabber brings me to my pics above. While searching for myself I came across an idea I had in 2012 to make my metal dolly mamas into wood. Like most of my ideas…it ended up in a drawer. Then I came across a bag of cut-up fabric I picked up at Goodwill for $2.00. I have always been drawn to as my daughter used to say “old dead peoples stuff”. I love the possible stories that are tied to everything. For example, the fabulous fabric on this skirt was made from a pair of pants that someone hand sewn and then cut apart at sometime. I wonder what her story was? Why did she cut her pants up, was she having a bad week too? Did she eat too much chocolate and not fit into her pants anymore? Did she feel just like me? And then I wonder….one day will someone find this dolly mama at our local Goodwill and wonder what my story is? Anyhoooooo. . . what was I talking about? Oh never mind, I’m starting to bore myself. I guess the moral to the story is to stop trying to be better and realize we are good just the way we are! Because personally if I don’t start to listen to my own advice, my daughter will probably donate me to Goodwill!
