threads
I used to sew. Well, sort of sew. I used to do beadwork, making barrettes & keychains, glove tops and the like. I was taught by friends who were very gifted, and very patient. I was never a top craftsman, but I did okay and I really enjoyed it.
When I lived in the village I'd spend a lot of time sitting at the table sewing and laughing with friends. I learned so very much about subsistence life, relationships, children, cooking and the importance of having people to share life with. When I look at who I am today, I credit those years between 20 and 25, and those hours spent sewing as a big factor. And, of the literal side, my non-artistic self felt vindicated - I COULD create beautiful things!!
When I moved out to the coast and started teaching, my sewing got set aside. I had to spend my late night hours grading papers, or prepping for class and I just didn't have time. When I moved to Fairbanks, my beads came with me but went into the store room, and then into the studio at our new house. Occasionally I'd think of digging them out, or I'd see something I made and have a flash of nostalgia, but it never went farther than a thought.
Yesterday, I went and collected my sewing from the studio. When I plopped the bag onto the kitchen table, I almost felt giddy. Still, I had to stop and wonder if my anticipation, my excitement was justified. It reminded me of going to visit my old elementary school, which in my mind was huge and warm and inspirational. In reality, things were just small - water fountains, chairs, tables - and the building was just your average school institution. Were my beads just beads??
Delightfully, my beads are still magic. First, I dumped them all out on the table, and then sorted them into bags by color. I love to look at the strands of beads, to touch them and hold them next to each other and watch the colors play together. Then, I sorted the patterns. I can still remember where most came from, who drew them for me or who I borrowed and traced them from. Last, I looked at all my projects, most started but not finished. I'm still perplexed by a keychain which is completed, and has the initals ELS on the back. I have absolutely no idea who I might have made that for, who ELS is or why I made him/her a keychain.
So I drew a barrette pattern and picked out some beads. Today, I think I'll thread a needle and see what happens. I doubt the barrette will be anything fantastic, but it won't matter. I'm reminding myself that I can create beautiful things, that I can have laughter and friends and an identity beyond teaching.
Identity is a tapestry, or to keep the metaphor consistent, a beautifully beaded purse. All sorts of colorful experiences decorate the outside. Sometimes you outline a flower and wait to fill it in later. The threads overlap, and occasionally break and need to be restarted, reconnected. Ultimately, this beautiful covering turns into a purse and is filled with the valuables that need to be protected. It's not the sewing, the creation of the intricate and colorful designs that is important. Those decorations need to be transformed into something useful. It's the combination of form and function that ultimately is so beautiful.
It's time to work on my purse.
When I lived in the village I'd spend a lot of time sitting at the table sewing and laughing with friends. I learned so very much about subsistence life, relationships, children, cooking and the importance of having people to share life with. When I look at who I am today, I credit those years between 20 and 25, and those hours spent sewing as a big factor. And, of the literal side, my non-artistic self felt vindicated - I COULD create beautiful things!!
When I moved out to the coast and started teaching, my sewing got set aside. I had to spend my late night hours grading papers, or prepping for class and I just didn't have time. When I moved to Fairbanks, my beads came with me but went into the store room, and then into the studio at our new house. Occasionally I'd think of digging them out, or I'd see something I made and have a flash of nostalgia, but it never went farther than a thought.
Yesterday, I went and collected my sewing from the studio. When I plopped the bag onto the kitchen table, I almost felt giddy. Still, I had to stop and wonder if my anticipation, my excitement was justified. It reminded me of going to visit my old elementary school, which in my mind was huge and warm and inspirational. In reality, things were just small - water fountains, chairs, tables - and the building was just your average school institution. Were my beads just beads??
Delightfully, my beads are still magic. First, I dumped them all out on the table, and then sorted them into bags by color. I love to look at the strands of beads, to touch them and hold them next to each other and watch the colors play together. Then, I sorted the patterns. I can still remember where most came from, who drew them for me or who I borrowed and traced them from. Last, I looked at all my projects, most started but not finished. I'm still perplexed by a keychain which is completed, and has the initals ELS on the back. I have absolutely no idea who I might have made that for, who ELS is or why I made him/her a keychain.
So I drew a barrette pattern and picked out some beads. Today, I think I'll thread a needle and see what happens. I doubt the barrette will be anything fantastic, but it won't matter. I'm reminding myself that I can create beautiful things, that I can have laughter and friends and an identity beyond teaching.
Identity is a tapestry, or to keep the metaphor consistent, a beautifully beaded purse. All sorts of colorful experiences decorate the outside. Sometimes you outline a flower and wait to fill it in later. The threads overlap, and occasionally break and need to be restarted, reconnected. Ultimately, this beautiful covering turns into a purse and is filled with the valuables that need to be protected. It's not the sewing, the creation of the intricate and colorful designs that is important. Those decorations need to be transformed into something useful. It's the combination of form and function that ultimately is so beautiful.
It's time to work on my purse.
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