One of my current enjoyments is felting. I have poked fluffs of wool for years, coaxing them into small bunnies and angels. Nothing epic, mind you, but  enough to evoke the sentiments of miniature life. I have even been so bold as to teach young children how to felt, though my instructions were embarrassingly brief. The truth is, I was not very skilled. Children are forgiving, however, and were quite pleased with the lopsided pumpkins and cats they took home. 

 

I fell upon tutorials by two incredible artists, and have been binge watching them as they create geese, horses, and Santas. Their artistry is phenomenal. After half a day of being in the audience while an appaloosa was stabbed into being I began to think, no actually believe that I was capable of such work. 

 

Then I picked up my barbed needle and a fistful of fiber and waited for the talent to come forth from my fingers. It didn't. 

 

I was still as novice as I had been before I watched, only the gap between my capability and aspiration had grown. Our daughter was home for the holidays and I mentioned this to her. 

 

"Oh, that is well researched. I read an article called 'Easier Seen than Done', citing people who think that when they view others being successful they are too."

 

I went to the felting website and ordered fresh colors of roving. Surely the combination of pricey materials and hours logged as a viewer would catapult me into prowess. 

 

But I suspect there is a third element necessary. It occurs to me that I need to get in the game and poke too. 

 

There are other videos that I busy myself with, especially in this time of quarantine. Off the Left Eye, and a slew of church services keep me company. while I quilt or fold laundry. The speakers wax eloquently about spiritual qualities. 

 

But being an observer does not also make me kind.