Loose Ends…

I’ve been a bit remiss in keeping up my posts.  There have been lots of fibery things happening, and I’ve not had much of a chance to jot them down, since I’ve been soooo preoccupied with the challenge from the last post.  So now we move back over to the weaving part of my fibery life, and a class I taught a couple of weekends ago for the Jockey Hollow Weavers in NJ.  It was great to have my daughter along to help, she did all the prep work for me, and ran around answering questions along with a handful of members of the Jockey Hollow Guild.

I’m happy to announce the class appeared to be wildly successful, there were a lot of happy faces at the end, some lovely samplers, and 14 new handweavers!  It was fun to have a student look up at me and say, “OMG I love this!”  And that was after they’d spent most of the morning and mid afternoon warping.

This is a one day class, and if you missed it and wish you could have been there and live within driving distance of the Princeton area, I’m doing a repeat performance Sunday, February 8th at the West Windsor Arts Council.   I understand there are still spaces available for this one day workshop.

Here are some of the pictures from the day, enjoy!

And one of Brianna helping a couple of the guys at the back table.

The next day I headed down to central Jersey to play in my first “professional” gig.  Many of you know that a few years ago, I went looking for a hobby.  I know you are all laughing, certainly what I do for a living is embraced by most people as a hobby.  But this is what I do all day long, every day, every weekend, even when I sleep.  And let me explain something about what I do.  It is a solo operation.  Unless my lovely daughter is hanging in the studio, I am completely alone.  I think alone, I make mistakes alone, I create triumphs alone, and I take all the credit and grief alone.  I have complete control over every part of my business and the art works/garment/ products that come from my hands.  If I don’t like how something is turning out, I change course.  If after I’ve worn a garment for a time and decide I don’t like something, I take the scissors to it.  I can even remake things from 30 years ago.  Cloth doesn’t go bad.  Though there are days I want to fire my booking agent (which would be me), I wouldn’t trade what I do and how I do it for the world.

However…

I knew it would ultimately be healthier for me if I went looking for a hobby that involved other people (where I wasn’t the leader), that challenged me heavily in the brain department, and one that I had no or minimal skills.  I like being an anonymous learner, it makes me humble realizing what my students go through, and it is good to have to work with a team, though it is against everything I am use to and rely on.

I chose music.

I picked up an inexpensive soprano plastic recorder, and started messing around with a couple of girlfriends, and we had fun gathering every couple of weeks to play recorders, drink wine and be friends.  I loved that when I play, though I practice on my own, it is all about the team.  If one of us messes up, the team messes up.  And anyone of us can mess up.  Mistakes in live performance are in the moment and then gone.  There is no going back, no stopping and restarting, no fixing and no time to even dwell on that mistake, since you’d lose your place and not be able to continue.  Ask me how I know this…

I eventually joined a consort that plays in Morristown, and we would occasionally play for the service in one of the gorgeous 19th century churches on the green.  The sound is amazing in that space.  Last summer I also joined the Montclair Early Music Society, which meets weekly, and though I was a bit intimidated at first, I’m slowly developing a level of competency.

Which brings me to my first professional gig.  There was a 12th Night Boar’s Head celebration at a church in central NJ, and the Montclair group was asked to gather a few recorder players for a consort.  I was available, and eager for performance opportunities because, and you will laugh, I get the worst case of stage fright you can imagine when I have to perform.  My hands shake, I can’t play the notes, I get distracted and lose my place, and I’m a wreck.  Go figure.  In my real life, I can effortlessly and extemporaneously speak to an audience of 700 people, without a mike, for two hours and not give it a second thought.

I think this is nothing more than just practice.  I think the performance thing you get use to.  I certainly did in my teaching career.  But performing with a group, which one would think would be easier, there is safety in numbers, is much tougher for me than the solo performances I do all the time in my real job.  In a group, we all have to act as one, be acutely aware of each other, and cover for each other.  When one goes down, there is the chance for all to go down as well.  Especially when you are just an amateur.

But I went, nerves and all.  They dressed us in costume, mine of course fell off of me as I performed.  I tried not to focus too much on the poor fit.  And we messed up.  A lot.  It was kind of sad.  I messed up, but so did everyone else.  There is nothing to be done but keep practicing, keep trying, and keep performing.  I would tell that to any of my students, if you want something bad enough, stay with it.  And I love the camaraderie of musicians.  There are egos just like everything in life, but it feels really good for me to just say, “I’m not very good”, and actually mean it.  It is humbling, and OK.  It gives me something to shoot for.

So here we are, that’s me with the vest falling off my shoulder.

I came home and started rooting through my vast closet looking for something I could actually put together that would pass as a medieval costume in a pinch, and came up with this.  I have a pretty cool wardrobe.  Just need some sort of headpiece.  That’s an old blouse I made years ago, silk, Issey Miyake pattern from Vogue.  And yes Candiss, that’s the vest you just sent me and one of your old broomstick skirts.  And I think the overskirt was a gift from my husband, hiked up, might have been from Chico’s.  The belt is from a craft fair.

Stay tuned…  Literally and figuratively. 🙂