she persisted...."
Two years and three months ago, as a new member of the Book Club, I got it into my head that you aren't a legitimate bookbinder unless you can do the coptic stitch. I watched the same video over and over, after creating my signatures, signature covers, and book cover, and I could. not. get. it.
I slowed the speed down so that a kindergartener should be able to follow.
I watched the seasoned members show off their beautifully bound books.
And I decided, after a couple of months of frustration, that this stitch would forever be an enigma to me.
Why waste monthly membership if I was going to be the only one in this worldwide club of members to fail close to the starting line? I asked myself.
So I did what quitters do. I quit.
A few months ago, the voice in my head wouldn't shut up. I was--an am, increasingly--fascinated by folding and stitching and gluing beautiful papers together to make a book. And I hadn't scratched the surface in the archive of tutorials. So with resolve, and not even looking at that damned coptic stitch, I rejoined, intent on doing easier structures.
But the voice in my head taunted me and I began to watch coptic stitch videos on You Tube--but only after successfully completing some almost-equally difficult stitched books
I stumbled across a teacher who explained it in a way that made more sense to me. All I needed was to grasp the logic of it, I thought, and I'd be on my way.
I took out the original pages I'd made two years and three months ago. The holes were ragged from multiple needle pokes. But tonight, I refused to stop until I got it all together. Even though it was doomed to be imperfect, it began to hold together and feel like a real book!
Finally! It IS a real book. A crooked wonky little book. A treasure. A forever reminder to persist in spite of the neverthelesses.