Finding Joy In-Between

Usually when building a garment, you can slowly see it coming together. You cut out your fabric, and then piece by piece, it's sewn together. Your excitement grows - or deflates - as you see your design start to come to fruition right in front of your eyes.

With my final garment for my Fashion Design class, I don't get to see it visually coming together. Because of the way I've chosen to construct it, all the pieces need to be in place in order for me to see what it actually looks like. Literally, the last stitch needs to be sewn for me to even have an idea of how it will drape and what it will look like on the body. So in many ways, I'm blindly just following my hands right now.

That being said, how can I make this work for me? How can I continue to pursue a project where I can't even see the endpoint? It might be a success. It might be a failure. I have a deadline. Can I be ok with however it turns out? Can I be ok with it having a life of its own, and it telling me what it wants to be - in the end - and not vice versa?

So what to do. What to do ...
Well, I find joy in the in-between. I find joy in each stitch, the rhythm of a sewing machine ... like a fucking turntable. I dance on that machine. I stitch like I'm performing surgery. I find joy in the ironing. I pay special attention to each wrinkled line that slowly disappears. I turn off my thinking, I go blank. I get down with not knowing, I get down with not seeing. I let go and let it be what it wants to be. There's something else seeing for me right now, and I just gotta follow.

If can find joy in the in-between, I can let go of what it becomes. Because if I find the joy in-between, there's nowhere to go. Because I'm already here. Hi.