What is that thing you crocheted?

The above question features quite prominently in the comments I've received. And as much as I would like to answer it, I can't. Because I don't really know myself what I crocheted. To call it a blanket would be stretching the truth, and to call it anything else finished would just be outright lying. I might call it 'art', but that is just a euphemism for a project that took an unfortunate, less than creative turn at some point, or a project that I was working on while I was also enjoying my wine and consequently spilled something (possibly wine) on it, or a project that the maid cleaned with a wet cloth and some pledge leaving to it a sticky surface and making it smell of 'poutpourri' (the last one mainly goes for my pathetic attempts at oil painting, not so much the knitting or the crocheting).

Who knows?

I think this whole crocheting thing might be more about the process than the actual finished product. Be it 'art' or not. And I will not say it is about that other thing I linked it to, because I have been getting visits from some people who found my blog through some rather extreme Google searches and I'm not sure that is the kind of audience I can cater to. Or want to cater to, for that matter.

This 'choosing the process' over one day actually finishing something is not a new idea for me. Although, the fact that I just called it 'choosing the process' gives it a slant that I don't really think should be there. In truth, and I might have mentioned this before, I just don't seem to finish many things I start.

But I'm really good at starting things.

She says as she packs away the half-finished crochet 'art'.

Here are some of my other ways of 'choosing the process':

:: I recently deleted the voice of the protagonist in my novel, thus effectually cutting about one fourth of what I had written. I like how it reads now much better, but know even less where it's headed. (Let's be nice and not say "nowhere" under our breaths now. Thanks.)

:: When I started my blog, I immediately afterwards found a volunteer gig that I couldn't say no to and that took up all of my time. I had a near-empty blog for 2 years. And no, unlike what julochka's husband still believes no blog ever updates itself, or if they do they drunk-spell or go all not funny (that's what happens when something subpar gets posted on here, just so we're clear on that). The useless bastards.

:: I finally got around to writing on my blog when I decided this was the time to concentrate on my novel. Now I'm lucky if I open the novel-file once a month. And sometimes I open it just to, you know, so that I don't have to fish it out of that 'last year' folder. I'm also great at procrastinatory mind games.

:: Right as I was writing the previous sentence I picked up a photography mag and now it's 30 minutes later. And I'm getting a new camera. And starting photography.

Actually, I rock starting things.

I already know about how C.E. feels about this, but what are your ways of 'choosing the process' or do y'all just think I should just pull that thumb out (I must be cutting off circulation by now anyhow), wash it, and use it for some typing (I type the blog using my index fingers, but for the book I might be willing to go all out)?