(sub nom. Patience: An Object Lesson.)
I can tend towards the manic side when crafting (NO!!!! really? you say) and tend to approach things in a hasty fashion. So, when I realised that partway through gluing pretty fruits to one another with my brand new (and first ever!) glue gun that I had bought the wrong size of replacement glue sticks – way too big.
So, did I wait until the next day and take them to the shop to try to return them the following day? Of course not. Instead, I decided to forge on ahead on the theory that if I cut the oversized glue sticks in half, they’d work just fine.
Instead, the cut glue stick jammed in the mechanism. I tried to pry it out. No go. I was about ready to fling it over the balcony when JJ reminded me that I should not do anything that might brain an innocent raccoon and/or get us evicted for substantial interference. For once, I listened.
So instead, for the rest of the evening while I worked quietly on my crochet like a good girl, my tortured brain started planning a fitting tribute to the very short-lived glue gun. A new glue gun and a quarter of a 25 pack pack of properly sized (double and triple checked!) glue sticks later, Patience was born.
A bit about the process (such as it was – ironically, given the title, this piece took about 45 minutes to put together…):
I wanted to make something to keep near my desk to give myself the (often necessary) message that impetuousness can lead to disaster. Hence, the verbal message in the piece:
The glue gun, of course, had to be displayed prominently:
The timepiece attached (meant to remind of the importance of the passage of time necessary for the successful completion of a craft) is from a watch graveyard I discovered in my bedroom drawer underneath the old lingerie that I haven’t worn for 10 years. An interesting irony: the watch is stopped at 25 minutes to nine. That is almost exactly the time at which my glue gun bit the dust! (I remember because I actually missed a few minutes of one of my favourite programmes, This Hour has 22 Minutes due to my consternation.)
The rest of the piece consists of broken china from my grandmother’s “chipped” collection and flowers retrieved from the storage locker, which had been part of JJs past seasonal door decorations. There are also a few beads left over from a past scarf project.
This, after the fact, I figure could either be viewed as a symbol of breakage from hastiness, or a Horn of (crafting) Plenty:
with the requisite funereal white roses below. The roses are strewn with beads because… they’re shiny (I can’t keep up this deep symbolism thing all that long!)
I thought this flower jazzed up the project – life after death, that sort of thing. The brown centre looked too boring, especially after I came across the perfect rose “tessera” from the china collection:
And of course, I had to stick in my “trademark” – a hallmark from one of the china cups. I don’t know why a greek canadian boygirl like so obsessed with this “made in England” symbol of alleged excellence… best not to question, perhaps.
And, all put together, I ended up with this:
A fitting tribute? Farewell, kind glue gun. You participated in a very beautiful project, and I’m sorry I didn’t treat you with more patience. (Good thing I don’t have kids, eh?)
(Unfortunately, this is not the first victim, by the way, of craft injuries at the hands of Brouhaha. Here is a previous one. I’m sure there have been many more which I have blocked from memory.
Oh – I forgot to mention the backing! I had a wooden tray which had been rescued from the laundry room for a couple of years, in more or less perfect condition. Blue seemed an appropriate colour for the mourning theme, but with a note of brightness for moving forward. So, I got the spraypaint out.
Which, I should note, very nearly engendered another casualty. Spray painting can be hazardous to your health! Especially if you’re smoking a cigarette while using it.
(I guess I should have clued into this before I started a spray ‘n smoke session. And yes, non-smokers, I do know that smoking is hazardous for my health as well. Believe me, I know. In case I was inclined to try to forget this basic fact of life, the government has decided to remind me at least 20 times a day:
And, just in case I somehow lost my ability to read and understand English:
Smoking is so glamorous! Really! How else do you get to try cyanide without dying immediately, may I ask?)
But, as usual, I digress. Suffice it to say that I obviously haven’t learned the “Haste Makes Waste” message completely. I’m only grateful that I didn’t end up wasted like this:
And… I’ll sign off with a hearty congratulations to my compatriot Manolis Andronikos,who on this date in 1977 discovered the tomb of Philip II of Macedon at Vergina – apparently a big archaeological discoveries of the 20th century. (What were you doing in 1977? I can’t specifically remember, but I was likely sulking because I had to play John Bosley in the Charlie’s Angels game at recess for the 27th time that year – when all I wanted to be Kelly Garrett. Just once. Or, maybe I was secretly lusting after Wonder Woman. SIGH. Life is full of disappointments, isn’t it?)
One thought on “Requiem to a Glue Gun”
Hey Kristiana, that is the most hilariuos and whimsical thing I’ve seen in ages. Long live Brouhaha. Trev