Last night I found an old unfinished project that was supposed to be a hand bound book, but it had lain forgotten in a bin with fabric scraps partly finished. I had stripped the cover off a leather bound journal, and sewn faux leather around it like a sleeve to create a rectangular mess. It isn’t badly sewn, but it needs to be reworked. My collected pieces have made it clear that They are not happy sitting on my bedside table in a recycled paper gift box, They want a proper home.
So I have been stripping all the cardboard, foam, and stitching off the black leather, and I am trying to figure out how to scrape it clean to allow for all the junk to be removed to use it for a bag. The faux leather is still sewn into a roughly pouch-shaped bag, but I think I might pull the whole thing apart to use the pieces in an alternating pattern of rich brown and black for a more elaborate home for my treasures. Blegh, I don’t know what to call Them, a nickname hasn’t been given to me yet, even though so many keep shouting at me to add Them into the collection so They can talk to me.
Maybe once I get Their bag done then I can sit down with Them to figure out what each one represents. Some have explicitly said what They mean, others have remained silent, as if awaiting certain offerings or gifts before They speak up.