Some days, the piles begin to chase you around, begging you to make them something else. I've had different piles to tackle every day this week. For example:
On Wednesday, I made a stack. (Creating inventory for the etsy shop I plan to open...)
On Thursday, I made a few stacks.
On Friday, Thursday's stacks became a pile once again, trimmed and ironed. By Saturday, it looked like this:
Don't let the layout fool you; it's still very much a stack. This stack is begging to be made pretty. (I'm still working on that part...) And then the very same stack gets broken into 11 little piles, which becomes 1 pile. When I finally finish with the last pile, I'll fold it up and add it to a stack of blankets, waiting to become warmth, comfort, or a merely a decorating statement, if it's a bit shallow. :-)
The piles never really go away, they just morph into other things.
As children, we used to stack things as high as we could; houses of cards, coins and books, balls of snow, piles of leaves to jump on... And it gave us a little thrill.
As adults, we like to lay things low; plow through the inbox, finish the laundry, sort the recyclables... It gives us a thrill to distill a pile down to its simplest, or its most complicated and beautiful, form. Quantity becomes quality.
I'd like to meet the visionary who first saw a pile of wool and thought, "hmmmmm, sweater."
There are myriads of other stacks to tackle this week - and I'll do my best to reduce each to what it needs to be. Or, and this is probably more important with some piles, what I need it to be. Good things can be found in stacks and layers.
Like cake.
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