My big boy decided that he can sew by himself. On my machine. He had this long stretch of white felt that we got from (possibly) Reverse Garbage. He drew great lines on it, just strips of colour. And a few cross lines as well. Simple. And perfect. In a very graphic art way. I really like his simplicity, his restraint with the shapes and lines. Just keeping it still and uncomplicated.
(Someone outside, in another house, is playing a beautiful lyrical piece on a flute, or something. Another one of those moments you have of living in the city. In a street where you can hear your neighbours breath and talk and yell, and play music, and laugh).So, after much talking, and me having to finish sewing my skirt (photos tomorrow, or some other time, I promise), I let him at the machine. First he sat on my lap, moving the fabric about with his hands, and pressing the button to reverse the stitches, lifting the foot up and clunking it down. All to my instruction. With me pressing the foot presser, to make it all go.
Then, while I was doing something else in the same room (my machine is now in our kitchen), he hopped onto the chair, and stretching his legs to reach the foot presser, he started doing it all on his own.So, my big (little) boy can sew. Have a look at that concentration.We got a box to make the foot presser higher, so that he can reach properly. And with standing over shoulder instructions from both mum and dad about being careful to not get fingers sewn on.
He did it.
He decided exactly where to start and when to stop the stitches. And then, half way through a line, half way across the 'page' he stopped, lifted up the foot presser, cut the thread. And declared it finished.
So, I suppose I'm going to have to share my sewing machine with him now, hey. Or buy him his own.