Granny Square Eyes

017

I started this ‘Springtime Throw’ in November and although the pattern suggested 432 squares for a full-sized throw, I felt burnt out after 108 and decided that it would make a lovely baby blanket instead. The thing is, if I had carried on, there would have been three possible outcomes:

1. I would become square-eyed.

2. I would lose the will to live.

3. I would be an actual granny by the time I had finished.

It’s not that I didn’t enjoy making it. I crocheted squares in the car while waiting for the children and as I watched TV. I crocheted in waiting rooms, airports and to my daughter’s eternal mortification, while at a gymnastics competition. (No, I wasn’t attempting a triple back flip on the beam at the same time – I leave that to Evie while I keep the trebles closer to my chest. :-))

As the squares piled up, I became excited about the end result but also a little over-whelmed at the prospect of having to join all of those squares together at the end.

051

The pattern came from Cute & Easy Crochet by Nicki Trench – a gorgeous book. Her version of the throw is absolutely divine, using shades of raspberry, pistachio and ochre to create what can only be described as a work of art. I’ve made several things from this book including some hats.

The little munchkin blanket got me through the cold, dark winter and warmed my heart as I went along, but it has also made me realise a few things about myself.

Like Heather in her wonderful post about how crocheting has given her time to reflect on who she is, making this blanket, square after square, gave me time to ponder on a few things, such as the fact that my staying power isn’t good, for a start. I flit. I do a bit of sculpture, knitting, crocheting, writing, felting, painting etc but I don’t excel at anything. If I had the staying power, I might be actually good at one thing or I might have completed a full-sized version of this blanket/throw.

Another thing that’s dawned on me is that sometimes just visualising the end result is enough for me.  Or even talking about or sharing a creative vision or an idea can be enough. I don’t need to make it or do it because in my head, I’ve already done it. It’s almost as if the creative process has been completed. Isn’t that daft? And because what I visualise is always perfect but what I make is rarely, I find that I am a constant disappointment to myself. Is it that I have too unrealistically high expectations of myself? I know that I am not alone in this and that we are all our own worst enemies.

But making this blanket has also made me realise that to be able to make something is a privilege and no matter how wonky or less than perfect it is, if it fulfils a creative need or provides some peace and quiet thinking time, then that’s all that really matters.

That in itself is a joy.