vroom vroom

I don't know about you, but I tend to ignore my body and assume that it will keep going, like a beat up car. Yes I know it's a cliche, but I guess the analogy works or it wouldn't be a cliche, would it? Most of the time I don't pay much attention to my body and generally just take the whole lot for granted.
.
I made my own book with a blue Volkswagen stitched on the front. 'Cause if my body IS a car, I would like it to be a quirky, cute, independent, striking and comfortable love-bug. (but not inspired at request of a murderous dictator. not that part.)

and yes, that is a embroidery hoop crease you see, not ironed out. Damn impatience.

.

I'll use this book for open letters to body parts ( for example my knees. under-appreciated.) a journal of what i actually eat (yes, other people's Easter eggs count) and how I move. The idea being that by paying attention I'll take better care of myself, eat better (harder to eat junk if I find myself apologising to myself continually), and be more aware of how I move; also to foster some love for those little heralded bits (knee example works here too); before the whole thing breaks down on me.

.

It's very pretty, and much easier than I thought. The inside is lined with brown paper, and I just stitched around all the edges using my sewing machine (popped in a ribbon for a bookmark first), then stitched in some paper.

And just to show you the back. I really liked it, seemed a shame to cover it up.

And something else I stitched this weekend. Cheese, I know.