The Doubts are back

After my complaining the other day about having to tie off and bury hundreds of thread ends, the question was raised " Why do you bother?"  Since then I've been questioning myself about why it's so important for me to demonstrate attention to detail and technical skill.  During my musings I found out that a quilter, known to me, with many undeveloped technical skills, has had work juried into a high profile show. Then, today the latest Quilting Arts Magazine arrived,complete with Robbie Joy Eklow's column, The Goddess of the Last Minute.  Amongst other things she mentions some newer and younger quilters who may not pay a lot of attention to detail because they really don't care.  (To be charitable, I would like to think that they don't care about technique because they are getting such a thrill out of the creative experience.)

So back to the original question--why do I care about detail and workmanship?  Is it because I believe in my heart that this is all I have to offer?  Is it because when my work receives attention and even sells, it is the pieces into which I have put the most effort, both creative and technical?  Is it because, as a former quilt judge, this is how I evaluate all work? Or is it maybe because that is all that I can control.  The creativity is a gift that is to be enjoyed and shared, but is not something that I have developed for myself.  When it shows up, it is a gift.

Today I finished the beading on my newest piece--number 2 in the Milky Way series--titled "Too Far Away".  This has taken five weeks of almost daily work to do.  Every bead larger than a seed bead is stitched twice, and the beading is solid for about 40 inches and about 3 inches wide.  Do I really think anyone will notice, or care?  Thank  Goodness, I know that this is the stage of every piece when my doubts kick in.  When the basic work is done, and only the finishing remains.  This is when I measure my original vision with the finished result, and because I've been so close to it for so long, it seldom measures up.   Probably a good example of "familiarity breeds contempt"  (Since this is for exhibition, I can't post any pictures--sorry)

But this also means that I can move onto another piece.  I have several in mind, and the drive to make my visions come to life, never fades, even in the face of perpetual doubt.