In a fitting exit for my time in Tuscany, I was all set to put my luggage under the bus using the pull-and-lift technique some stranger had shown me when I was struggling. As the bus stopped and I lifted the familiar looking handle, I saw the underbelly of a bus engine instead of a cavernous luggage storage cavity... So then I lugged my 20 kilo suitcase up into the main part of the bus where the driver told me something I already knew: there wasn't luggage storage on this bus. I also realized this driver looked familiar to me. You know you've been taking a lot of Italian transportation when you get the same bus driver twice. So then I moseyed back to find a seat and enjoyed the tuscan hillside as we drove toward Grosseto. At one point I saw a man driving a steamroller on newly laid asphalt. It was just like the one I know how to drive!
I bought my train ticket to Milan Malpensa Airport and then ventured into Grosseto to kill a few hours. After meandering around the historic center I camped out in a little (air conditioned) cafe where I had stopped a few weeks earlier for a cappuccino and croissant. The owner may or may not have recognized me. I got another cappuccino and pastry and camped out while writing in my journal. It was really pleasant to order in Italian and feel like a regular. I even ordered a rice salad to take on the train with me, which was one of my favorite dishes I tried at the agriturismo in Tuscany.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Le Marche + Roma
After Tuscany, I headed west to the Adriatic Coast to visit the relatives of my paternal great grandmother. They are a wily bunch and it was an action-packed visit! We went to the beach on bikes, drove to eat dinner by a mountain, visited lots of medieval towns (by day and by night), ate lots of local food, and of course went swimming. The families were really excited to see me again after four years and treated me like a princess. I really loved speaking in Italian the whole time, since this was the first time in my trip to be surrounded by Italians.
After Le Marche I had to go back to Tuscany so I could then go north to Milan, where my flight was departing. I was going to pass through Rome while my cousin was there for work so we met up in the city and saw some sights. After getting carried away and not allowing enough time at the train station I missed my train...and wouldn't be able to make the bus connection in Grosseto if I caught the next one. So I added a surprise night in Rome to my trip! We saw Rome by night and walked along the Transtevere area til late at night. The next day I headed to Grosseto by train and then Montegiovi by bus.
After Le Marche I had to go back to Tuscany so I could then go north to Milan, where my flight was departing. I was going to pass through Rome while my cousin was there for work so we met up in the city and saw some sights. After getting carried away and not allowing enough time at the train station I missed my train...and wouldn't be able to make the bus connection in Grosseto if I caught the next one. So I added a surprise night in Rome to my trip! We saw Rome by night and walked along the Transtevere area til late at night. The next day I headed to Grosseto by train and then Montegiovi by bus.
Color into Print
It took me three extra-urban buses to get from Siena to Castel del Piano, a small town west of Grosseto, which was where I was picked up by the organizer of the class I came all the way to Italy to take. One of the great things about Italy is its web of public transportation. You just have to plan ahead and be patient and you can get yourself just about anywhere. Of course, if you have questions some drivers are more helpful than others. But anyway, it was a weary day of traveling that turned into a marvelous beginning of the class.
The main reasons I signed up to take this class through Women's Studio Workshop where the location in Italy and the timing in July. I also asked around about the teacher and checked out her work. But that was it. From those humble pretenses, I got much more than I expected. Color into Print was an AMAZING experience. The very first day I knew it was going to be great after chatting with Shelley, the instructor. I could tell right away she is super down to earth and completely invested in her students as artists and complicated people. After traveling on my own and having minimal interactions with people it was a shock to find myself in a meaningful conversation with someone I had just met. But it was also great.
The age range of the six students was 50 years and everyone had led a really remarkable life. I got to know the group over the 10 day class and it made the experience extra fun to scheme with them about trying to decipher information about the staff at the agriturismo where we stayed. I was the only one who could speak Italian so I acted as liason/diplomat between the two groups. Did I mention it was fun?
The first morning of the class was full of demos. Since they had converted a dining room and living room space into a print studio we were working with low-tech methods, but I learned a great deal. There's a lot you can do with not a lot. The days were set up to have work/demo time in the morning til 1:30. Then lunch. Then a break til 4 at which point work time started up again until 7. And then dinner was always (mostly) promptly at 8 and lasted at least two hours with four very generous courses.
During the break sometimes we went to the pool, sometimes napped, and sometimes we walked in the heat of the day for hours to and from Seggiano, the closest town. The art-making was at times frenzied and intense and at other times relaxing. I worked best when I was printing in the morning and making plates in the afternoon. I had been gathering inspiration in the first week of traveling in Italy from magazine images to images drawn in my sketchbook. So I just dove right in and made things like crazy.
New* things I learned:
Chine colle method that actually makes sense
Shaped drypoint plates with plexiglass
Using foam shapes to create the illusion of screen printing
Collograph with chipboard, metal filings, and spackle
Watercolor monoprint
Viscosity monoprint
A la poupee inking technique
Lots about mixing color
*a few things I saw done in college but had never tried them myself
I paired some tried and true methods like acetate stencils and transparent flats with the aforementioned new techniques and just kept making and printing then making more and printing more. It was the first time for me to play with printmaking in over two years. I jumpstarted my stagnated studio practice and hope to keep up the momentum back in the States.
The main reasons I signed up to take this class through Women's Studio Workshop where the location in Italy and the timing in July. I also asked around about the teacher and checked out her work. But that was it. From those humble pretenses, I got much more than I expected. Color into Print was an AMAZING experience. The very first day I knew it was going to be great after chatting with Shelley, the instructor. I could tell right away she is super down to earth and completely invested in her students as artists and complicated people. After traveling on my own and having minimal interactions with people it was a shock to find myself in a meaningful conversation with someone I had just met. But it was also great.
The age range of the six students was 50 years and everyone had led a really remarkable life. I got to know the group over the 10 day class and it made the experience extra fun to scheme with them about trying to decipher information about the staff at the agriturismo where we stayed. I was the only one who could speak Italian so I acted as liason/diplomat between the two groups. Did I mention it was fun?
The first morning of the class was full of demos. Since they had converted a dining room and living room space into a print studio we were working with low-tech methods, but I learned a great deal. There's a lot you can do with not a lot. The days were set up to have work/demo time in the morning til 1:30. Then lunch. Then a break til 4 at which point work time started up again until 7. And then dinner was always (mostly) promptly at 8 and lasted at least two hours with four very generous courses.
During the break sometimes we went to the pool, sometimes napped, and sometimes we walked in the heat of the day for hours to and from Seggiano, the closest town. The art-making was at times frenzied and intense and at other times relaxing. I worked best when I was printing in the morning and making plates in the afternoon. I had been gathering inspiration in the first week of traveling in Italy from magazine images to images drawn in my sketchbook. So I just dove right in and made things like crazy.
New* things I learned:
Chine colle method that actually makes sense
Shaped drypoint plates with plexiglass
Using foam shapes to create the illusion of screen printing
Collograph with chipboard, metal filings, and spackle
Watercolor monoprint
Viscosity monoprint
A la poupee inking technique
Lots about mixing color
*a few things I saw done in college but had never tried them myself
I paired some tried and true methods like acetate stencils and transparent flats with the aforementioned new techniques and just kept making and printing then making more and printing more. It was the first time for me to play with printmaking in over two years. I jumpstarted my stagnated studio practice and hope to keep up the momentum back in the States.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Italia 2013: Hiking, Tuscan Sun, and Delicious Food
Day 0: airport
My darling sister Josie dropped me off at airport and I was off with a start! Well, actually I had mixed feelings about going to Italy for a month. On the one hand: sounds amazing. On the other hand: I had just finished a colossally exhausting six month project called Insta-tangram where we made interactive 3 foot by 3 foot woodcut tangram prints with a steamroller (video). In the one week leading up to the trip there was lots of chaos and scrambling. Not really any time to feel rested and ready to embark on a month-long sojourn in a foreign country.
Before we even left the ground, I found myself in my second insurance claim situation in the past few months. I was bending forward in my aisle seat to get something out of my carry on at my feet and my head was a few centimeters in the aisle. A flight attendant came flying toward the front and swept my sunglasses off my head and projecting them two rows ahead. Sadly the sunglasses were not made for impromptu air travel and one side became bent beyond repair. I bought new ones at JFK and hoped that would be the worst thing that happened during the plane trip, which it was.
The transatlantic flight was mildly uncomfortable but not horrible. I'm out of practice taking 8+ hour flights. My personalized tv was broken, but I was focusing on trying to sleep anyway. I ended up getting about 4 hours on the plane.
Day 1: Milano
I arrived in MXP at 7 am on July 1 and managed to swap out my US Sim card for a European one. I headed to Milano Centrale on a bus and met up with Sylva, who I hadn't seen in about a year! We chilled in a park and munched on a brioche while catching up. After I got my Milan-legs we headed to the apartment where we were couchsurfing with a really nice Italian couple. I dropped off my bags and then we ventured into the city to see what we could see. Twice we fell asleep on grass, but only once did the police scold us so you could say we're fast learners. We meandered toward the part of the city with canals and then later saw the Castello Sforzesco. Dinner was at Pizza Big with Matia and his colleague Daniele. After delicious pizza Napoletana we drove around and ended up at the canal area again. At night the atmosphere is totally different with lots of people dining outside and enjoying the cool weather. It ended up being a pretty late night, which was difficult but helped flush the jet lag out.
Day 2: Milano
Sylva let me sleep in til almost 10 and then we had to get a move on since we were heading to the Politecnico di Milano to meet up with a lady I met at the Digital Media Leaning Conference in March of this year. She teaches at the university and gave us a nice introduction to some of the programs. We of course enjoyed a macchiato in true Italian fashion. Afterwards we ate some panini for lunch and then headed back to Milano Centrale. It ended up taking a while to get our train for Chiasso sorted out so we decided to just head directly there instead of squeezing one more thing in. Chiasso is actually just across the border in Switzerland, and it was the next couchsurfing destination. The train ride from Milan was about 30 minutes and then we hung out in the train station until meeting our host. The European sim card that I was using apparently only worked in Italy since I had no service in Switzerland, so that was a fun surprise. But even without a way to make contact we found our host Michael and settled into his apartment. After a light dinner we went out and headed through windy Swiss roads to Lugano, where there was a music festival happening. We walked along the lake and heard great music coming from the band stand. The band performing was called Tuba Skinny and they hailed from New Orleans! It was lots of fun to listen and dance to late into the night. After their set we had a tranquil aperitivo along the water and then headed back where sleeping came very rapidly.
Day 3: Chiasso, Lugano
We woke up reasonably early and meandered to get an Italian style breakfast with cappuccino and brioche. After the leisurely breakfast we started on our hike to Como. Since Chiasso is right on the border, we walked through a nonexistent checkpoint and headed on our merry way. We found out later that they haven't stamped passports there since 2007. As we walked along provincial roads in and out of little towns there was a slight sprinkling of rain, which helped cool us off. The walk was lovely and walking into Como on unusual paths was nice and non-touristy. We walked a bunch around the lake of Como and then took the funicular up to a town called Burate. There, we ate lunch overlooking the lovely vista and then explored the historic town by foot. Back down in Como, we met up with a super nice guy named Tomaso who lives in Como. He and his girlfriend took us on another tour around the lake and town center and then we all went back to his apartment to eat some raspberry cheesecake and hang out for a while. It was really pleasant to meet them. Tomaso studied cinematography in Rome where he met Tim Burton one time. After our early evening snack, they helped us navigate back to Chiasso. We decided to go by bus to save time. Once back in Chiasso, we met up with our couchsurfing host. He wanted to go back to Lugano for the music festival since there were new groups playing. The weather was lovely once more and we stayed out fairly late listening to the different groups.
Day 4: Como, La Spezia
This was Sylva's last day and she wanted to go kayaking on Lake Como so we took all of our luggage on a super crowded bus and made our way to the kayak rental place that Tomaso showed us the day before. We were out on the water before 11 am in a double kayak and the weather was just delightful. We headed away from the coast we had explored by foot the day before and saw lots of awesome architecture along with several water planes flying around. This was my fourth time kayaking and it was lots of fun! We stayed out on the water for two hours and then had to turn back since I had a train to catch. We made our way to the train station and grabbed panini along the way. Sylva and I headed to Milano Centrale where she connected with a train to the airport and I headed to La Spezia to see the Cinque Terre. The train ride was about three hours, during which time I wrote in my Italian journal and tried to eavesdrop on conversations around me. From La Spezia I took a bus to Biassa where the hostel was located. Ostello Tramonti is located in a really cute medieval town with a great view of La Spezia through the mountains. I checked into the hostel and then walked around in the dying light taking as many pictures as I could.
Day 5: Cinque Terre
The hostel offered a shuttle service to Riomaggiore but the earliest left at 8:30 and I really wanted to get an early start. So I woke up at 6 and took a bus into La Spezia where I then took a train to Monterosso, the northern most of the Cinque Terre (Five Lands). I started on the walking trail from the train station toward the next town called Vernazza. The Cinque Terre are famous because they are small villages right on the water and used to only be accessible by boat or by footpaths. Now with the railway it's easier to get between them, but the walking paths are a popular destination. I had my sketchbook with me and picked shaded spots throughout the day to draw. The path from Monterosso to Vernazza was very up and down with some spots of the path only 18" wide right next to a sheer drop. I heard lots of different languages throughout the day. After 11 am the number of tourists increased dramatically. I rested in Vernazza for a bit and then headed to Corniglia. These were the only two paths open and I could completely understand why since the paths are incredibly hard to manage. Some sections I passed were slightly blocked by stones from a crumbling wall. The path to Corniglia was a lot easier than the first one so it went by fairly quickly. The estimation is that it takes 2 hours to walk between each town, but I finished in less than 1.5. So I may be out of shape, but I can certainly hold my own in comparison to middle aged Australians.
Day 6: Biassa
I spent all morning painting around the small town of Biassa. Then in the afternoon I headed into La Spezia to take a train to Firenze. The train ride was pretty pleasant and I arrived in time to enjoy dinner prepared by my former host mother, Maria. We got to catch up during and after dinner and then I watched a documentary about Van Gogh dubbed in Italian on the tv.
Day 7: Firenze, Siena
I woke up before 7 so that could take a bus to Settignano and hike around. My breakfast overlapped with Maria's and Paolo's, which was nice. They are so great! I wish I could live with them again. The bus to Settignano was short and sweet and then I started off on one planned path that then turned into choosing random roads. I did a loop into Vincigliata and Montebelino and then back to Settignano in the early afternoon. I had already packed up my bags and was able to chill at Maria's house for an afternoon caffe and then head out to the bus station. I managed to not get lost heading to the station and caught a bus to Siena. The hostel where I was staying was located outside the city center so I walked around for a bit, but then decided to take a bus into the center and explore there. I saw a poster for a summer movie series at the medieval amphitheater in Siena and found out that they were showing the Great Gatsby tonight! Every day was a different movie, so it was pretty lucky. I hung around the medieval fortress and then got a seat for the movie. It was so great! And since I've seen the movie in English, I was able to understand almost everything and I even picked up some new vocabulary.
Day 8: Siena
After only one week I desperately needed to do some laundry so I went to a laundromat nearby the hostel in between eating breakfast. Then I set off into the city center and walked around all day. I tried to get lost and just absorb the beauty of the city. I of course went to the Piazza del Campo and the Duomo, but I also stopped into the Medieval Torture Museum, which was....interesting... In the Duomo I ended up drawing for three hours on a marble bench, which was nice and cool.
Day 9: Siena, Seggiano
I checked out of the hostel and then took a bus into the city center, then a bus toward Grosseto where I transferred at Paganico to Castel del Piano. There, I waited to be picked up by the director for the Women's Studio Workshop that I'm attending for a week in Tuscany. It was a stressful travel day, but everything worked out and I was able to relax at the agriturismo where the class was happening. And I've been there for a few days and making lots of new stuff.
I'll write more about the workshop later!
My darling sister Josie dropped me off at airport and I was off with a start! Well, actually I had mixed feelings about going to Italy for a month. On the one hand: sounds amazing. On the other hand: I had just finished a colossally exhausting six month project called Insta-tangram where we made interactive 3 foot by 3 foot woodcut tangram prints with a steamroller (video). In the one week leading up to the trip there was lots of chaos and scrambling. Not really any time to feel rested and ready to embark on a month-long sojourn in a foreign country.
Before we even left the ground, I found myself in my second insurance claim situation in the past few months. I was bending forward in my aisle seat to get something out of my carry on at my feet and my head was a few centimeters in the aisle. A flight attendant came flying toward the front and swept my sunglasses off my head and projecting them two rows ahead. Sadly the sunglasses were not made for impromptu air travel and one side became bent beyond repair. I bought new ones at JFK and hoped that would be the worst thing that happened during the plane trip, which it was.
The transatlantic flight was mildly uncomfortable but not horrible. I'm out of practice taking 8+ hour flights. My personalized tv was broken, but I was focusing on trying to sleep anyway. I ended up getting about 4 hours on the plane.
Day 1: Milano
I arrived in MXP at 7 am on July 1 and managed to swap out my US Sim card for a European one. I headed to Milano Centrale on a bus and met up with Sylva, who I hadn't seen in about a year! We chilled in a park and munched on a brioche while catching up. After I got my Milan-legs we headed to the apartment where we were couchsurfing with a really nice Italian couple. I dropped off my bags and then we ventured into the city to see what we could see. Twice we fell asleep on grass, but only once did the police scold us so you could say we're fast learners. We meandered toward the part of the city with canals and then later saw the Castello Sforzesco. Dinner was at Pizza Big with Matia and his colleague Daniele. After delicious pizza Napoletana we drove around and ended up at the canal area again. At night the atmosphere is totally different with lots of people dining outside and enjoying the cool weather. It ended up being a pretty late night, which was difficult but helped flush the jet lag out.
Day 2: Milano
Sylva let me sleep in til almost 10 and then we had to get a move on since we were heading to the Politecnico di Milano to meet up with a lady I met at the Digital Media Leaning Conference in March of this year. She teaches at the university and gave us a nice introduction to some of the programs. We of course enjoyed a macchiato in true Italian fashion. Afterwards we ate some panini for lunch and then headed back to Milano Centrale. It ended up taking a while to get our train for Chiasso sorted out so we decided to just head directly there instead of squeezing one more thing in. Chiasso is actually just across the border in Switzerland, and it was the next couchsurfing destination. The train ride from Milan was about 30 minutes and then we hung out in the train station until meeting our host. The European sim card that I was using apparently only worked in Italy since I had no service in Switzerland, so that was a fun surprise. But even without a way to make contact we found our host Michael and settled into his apartment. After a light dinner we went out and headed through windy Swiss roads to Lugano, where there was a music festival happening. We walked along the lake and heard great music coming from the band stand. The band performing was called Tuba Skinny and they hailed from New Orleans! It was lots of fun to listen and dance to late into the night. After their set we had a tranquil aperitivo along the water and then headed back where sleeping came very rapidly.
Day 3: Chiasso, Lugano
We woke up reasonably early and meandered to get an Italian style breakfast with cappuccino and brioche. After the leisurely breakfast we started on our hike to Como. Since Chiasso is right on the border, we walked through a nonexistent checkpoint and headed on our merry way. We found out later that they haven't stamped passports there since 2007. As we walked along provincial roads in and out of little towns there was a slight sprinkling of rain, which helped cool us off. The walk was lovely and walking into Como on unusual paths was nice and non-touristy. We walked a bunch around the lake of Como and then took the funicular up to a town called Burate. There, we ate lunch overlooking the lovely vista and then explored the historic town by foot. Back down in Como, we met up with a super nice guy named Tomaso who lives in Como. He and his girlfriend took us on another tour around the lake and town center and then we all went back to his apartment to eat some raspberry cheesecake and hang out for a while. It was really pleasant to meet them. Tomaso studied cinematography in Rome where he met Tim Burton one time. After our early evening snack, they helped us navigate back to Chiasso. We decided to go by bus to save time. Once back in Chiasso, we met up with our couchsurfing host. He wanted to go back to Lugano for the music festival since there were new groups playing. The weather was lovely once more and we stayed out fairly late listening to the different groups.
Day 4: Como, La Spezia
This was Sylva's last day and she wanted to go kayaking on Lake Como so we took all of our luggage on a super crowded bus and made our way to the kayak rental place that Tomaso showed us the day before. We were out on the water before 11 am in a double kayak and the weather was just delightful. We headed away from the coast we had explored by foot the day before and saw lots of awesome architecture along with several water planes flying around. This was my fourth time kayaking and it was lots of fun! We stayed out on the water for two hours and then had to turn back since I had a train to catch. We made our way to the train station and grabbed panini along the way. Sylva and I headed to Milano Centrale where she connected with a train to the airport and I headed to La Spezia to see the Cinque Terre. The train ride was about three hours, during which time I wrote in my Italian journal and tried to eavesdrop on conversations around me. From La Spezia I took a bus to Biassa where the hostel was located. Ostello Tramonti is located in a really cute medieval town with a great view of La Spezia through the mountains. I checked into the hostel and then walked around in the dying light taking as many pictures as I could.
Day 5: Cinque Terre
The hostel offered a shuttle service to Riomaggiore but the earliest left at 8:30 and I really wanted to get an early start. So I woke up at 6 and took a bus into La Spezia where I then took a train to Monterosso, the northern most of the Cinque Terre (Five Lands). I started on the walking trail from the train station toward the next town called Vernazza. The Cinque Terre are famous because they are small villages right on the water and used to only be accessible by boat or by footpaths. Now with the railway it's easier to get between them, but the walking paths are a popular destination. I had my sketchbook with me and picked shaded spots throughout the day to draw. The path from Monterosso to Vernazza was very up and down with some spots of the path only 18" wide right next to a sheer drop. I heard lots of different languages throughout the day. After 11 am the number of tourists increased dramatically. I rested in Vernazza for a bit and then headed to Corniglia. These were the only two paths open and I could completely understand why since the paths are incredibly hard to manage. Some sections I passed were slightly blocked by stones from a crumbling wall. The path to Corniglia was a lot easier than the first one so it went by fairly quickly. The estimation is that it takes 2 hours to walk between each town, but I finished in less than 1.5. So I may be out of shape, but I can certainly hold my own in comparison to middle aged Australians.
Day 6: Biassa
I spent all morning painting around the small town of Biassa. Then in the afternoon I headed into La Spezia to take a train to Firenze. The train ride was pretty pleasant and I arrived in time to enjoy dinner prepared by my former host mother, Maria. We got to catch up during and after dinner and then I watched a documentary about Van Gogh dubbed in Italian on the tv.
Day 7: Firenze, Siena
I woke up before 7 so that could take a bus to Settignano and hike around. My breakfast overlapped with Maria's and Paolo's, which was nice. They are so great! I wish I could live with them again. The bus to Settignano was short and sweet and then I started off on one planned path that then turned into choosing random roads. I did a loop into Vincigliata and Montebelino and then back to Settignano in the early afternoon. I had already packed up my bags and was able to chill at Maria's house for an afternoon caffe and then head out to the bus station. I managed to not get lost heading to the station and caught a bus to Siena. The hostel where I was staying was located outside the city center so I walked around for a bit, but then decided to take a bus into the center and explore there. I saw a poster for a summer movie series at the medieval amphitheater in Siena and found out that they were showing the Great Gatsby tonight! Every day was a different movie, so it was pretty lucky. I hung around the medieval fortress and then got a seat for the movie. It was so great! And since I've seen the movie in English, I was able to understand almost everything and I even picked up some new vocabulary.
Day 8: Siena
After only one week I desperately needed to do some laundry so I went to a laundromat nearby the hostel in between eating breakfast. Then I set off into the city center and walked around all day. I tried to get lost and just absorb the beauty of the city. I of course went to the Piazza del Campo and the Duomo, but I also stopped into the Medieval Torture Museum, which was....interesting... In the Duomo I ended up drawing for three hours on a marble bench, which was nice and cool.
Day 9: Siena, Seggiano
I checked out of the hostel and then took a bus into the city center, then a bus toward Grosseto where I transferred at Paganico to Castel del Piano. There, I waited to be picked up by the director for the Women's Studio Workshop that I'm attending for a week in Tuscany. It was a stressful travel day, but everything worked out and I was able to relax at the agriturismo where the class was happening. And I've been there for a few days and making lots of new stuff.
I'll write more about the workshop later!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Serger Fervor
When in the mood for a classic slasher film, The Texas Serger Massacre probably doesn’t jump to mind. In comparison to a chainsaw, a serger seems inconsequential, a utilitarian creature trained to work in the garment industry, but for those familiar with the wrath of a temperamental serger, PTSD could have a new meaning. Post Traumatic Serger Disorder is sweeping the nation, one costume shop at a time. For some, hiding in fear is the best way to deal with the oppressive serger although the delay tactic only works for so long before the machine-monster grits its tiny yet terrible teeth and demands a human sacrifice.
I’ve lived through it. No scars to show, but memory serves well enough. The room’s pulse lurches to a halt. The hairs on the back of peoples’ necks stand up in fearful anticipation of what comes next. Exclamatory cursing meets its match when this dreaded event transpires. Sailors in paper mache hats run for cover. Perspiration drips. Eye contact hurriedly dons a funeral veil (conveniently, we have quite a few funeral veils in stock at all times, looming less than two feet above your head). I gulp.
For anyone in this situation, it’s important to remember to stay calm. The serger feeds on fear. The only way to fight back against its bellowing is to cobble together some tenacity. The best weapons to keep at the ready are: one standard pair of Garment Center Swing SMT1 tweezers, a tiny brush, grade A canned air, and a 60 watt bulb (preferably attached to a lamp that’s plugged in). The best tip for defeating the serger-dragon is the buddy system, preferably with someone who has gone head to head and lived to tell the tale. Luckily for me, a true serger sergeant showed me the ropes. Where the pressure points are located and which levers to pull. Focus and refraining from blinking are key.
Conquering a behemoth that weighs about as much as a female gorilla comes with a few nonnegotiable conditions. Firstly, as soon as the machine throws another tantrum, you will be drafted to go in and perform your civic duty. Secondly, a whole new range of projects basks in the light of potential assignment. With great power comes endlessly provokable responsibility.
Thus the trade-off between desirable, obscure skills and friendly requests to make and repair things for other people.
Although I tire of being expected to leap at the request of a friend in need of some crafted creation, I also insist on doing a whiz-bang job despite other obligations. Pride propels the vicious cycle.
For better or for worse, mine is the type of existence that treads denial. I exist indirectly through the things that pass through my hands and into the universe. Felt scraps and umbrellas transcend their original purpose as I morph them into handmade monsters and demons, syringe mobiles and puppet show curtains. Even if not directly associated with my name, I labor over projects not only to nurture a friendship, but to keep myself busy and prove my capabilities. The projects that come my way typically provide welcome relief from the rigors and/or tedium of everyday work. Granted, working in a costume shop provides plenty of amusement; however, making miscellaneous props for a rock opera to illustrate the narrative arc of industrial anarchy, picnics with glow sticks, and a man-eating worm monster certainly takes the edge off of normality.
An important part of the creation process is collaborating with the frenetic mastermind and trying to untangle his or her ideas into something feasible. Translating a concept into reality tends to strip it of some whimsy, but bringing something to life that previously only existed as vapors in someone’s mind involves a different kind of magic.
The act of creation, be it a poem, prom dress or pancake, means a great deal. It shows effort and planning and patience and follow-through (the pancake, less so, but how thoughtful is bringing someone breakfast in bed?). Being able to manage a project where someone else is the beneficiary makes the reward greater than if the end result was for oneself. Especially when it comes to something handmade. The time taken to make something imbues the something with preciousness that gives time itself a run for its money.
My mother grew up so poor she sewed her own underwear. Once she was able to buy clothes at her every whim, her practical sewing slowed to a halt. It became a novelty. When her daughters reached a certain age, she brought it out on special occasions like an heirloom silverware set. She made First Communion dresses and other costumes throughout my younger years.
In comparison to my two sisters, I took to sewing much more voraciously. I loved it. I loved the flat patterns that turned into a three dimensional form. I loved the amount of focus needed to stitch fine details. Interfacing, flip n flip hems, putting in zippers, buttons, snaps: it all fascinated me. Time-wise, it was not exactly practical, but I relished the opportunity to learn from my mom who had learned from her mom and aunts. The past time turned into a conversation with my family history that survived in the form of old quilts, clothes, and secret sewing knowledge. To explain how much of an impact sewing had on me, I allude to my handmade prom dress since it illuminates a much different image than handmade throw pillows. Why make something mundane when you can make something beautiful?
Sewing was one of my intermediate forays into the world of creativity (following crayons and preceding ceramics, paint and many other media). I took it upon myself to make challenging projects for myself and others. Reacting to a heaping pile of t-shirts in my basement, I started making t-shirt quilts for family members that over the years became increasingly complicated and refined, not to mention larger. After completing one to two quilts for each of my immediate family members, I branched out to uncles and aunts and then I made two for myself. A couple were for pay, but I mostly made them without planned compensation. These ubiquitous quilts are scattered around the house and act as a record of the time and effort I put into them.
Keep in mind my family had no shortage of blankets in the house. I was not making these t-shirt quilts out of necessity, but rather out of one part boredom, two parts ambition. When life gives you a pile of t-shirts, make t-shirt quilts. Transforming a mundane raw material into a well-made token of appreciation is kind of my thing. Like turning magazine pages into envelopes and paper into handwritten letters. Creation is my strength and my downfall. I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. But the second part of creation is entrusting that creation to someone else. When it comes to family, there’s no question I receive much more than I can give. Close friendships, too, provide ample space to give and give alike.
However, when my time input exceeds a certain amount it’s only fair to receive some sort of compensation. At the most basic level, affirmation through positive feedback is most appreciated. The process of creating puts me in a euphoric state, but the most deleterious response to a handmade gift is apathy, or worse: lackluster praise. It’s different than something store bought because I, as the creator, zapped it into being. If I receive no affirmation, my existence wavers on lapsing into existential paranoia.
I end up using things I make for friends as bargaining devices to combat my fear of inadequacy. Bartering with the fruits of my labor can lead to tension when deciding what denotes a “fair trade,” but mostly there is just an inherent delay for me receiving satisfactory compensation since I take up challenges with such alacrity.
Identifying my own strengths allows me to appreciate the strengths of other people. Not everyone has sewing skills, but some people are skilled at making budgets or devising business plans and schedules. Skills I categorically lack. What better payback for my lovingly-crafted creations than receiving much needed consultation for tasks that give me trouble?
Forging something collaboratively taps into a type of creation more powerful than that of one person working individually. Even though my strength for showing appreciation takes a very physical form, there are plenty of other ways to show appreciation that build on the collective talent in the room. Determining validity is up to the discretion of the people involved in the collaborative exchange.
My desire to be creative, or rather my inescapable habit of being creative, noses its way into all kinds of situations and relationships. Although it inhabits the very central part of my being, it is much less shy than me and I can rely on it to take first step toward instigating or strengthening some sort of bond. Creativity has a way of transcending time and other terrestrial limitations.
From what I can gather from stories, my grandmother loved her serger. She nursed it like a 5th child and lovingly fed it fabric to nibble on on a regular basis. It did not weigh as much as a female gorilla, in fact it more closely resembled a koala bear. In all the years growing up in the same house, my mother never learned to understand it even though she became fluent in the sewing machine. A serger is a whole different animal.
When my grandmother passed away, possessions my grandfather would never use were divvied out and my mother inherited the serger. For over a decade it lived in our basement, never knowing the tender touch of its new owners. My mother occasionally lamented her fear of threading the machine and I took her word that the underbelly of the serger was not to be taken lightly.
It was only after I wrestled the gorilla-sized industrial serger at my workplace, the performing arts department costume shop, gaining confidence with tricky threading maneuvers, that I rode in on a chicken wire frame horse to save the day. As a result of my merit badge wielding, the serger has had a chance to stretch its legs and can now gawk at the dishevelment of a different part of our basement. Sadly, even though I resurrected it from an unglorified, dingy shelf, no one currently living in the house appreciates it for all it can accomplish.
It has so much to give. All it wants to do is finish edges and keep things from fraying and falling apart. It was born to create things that last, but most of its life has been spent being misunderstood and under appreciated.
When I make tracks headed for a new nest, I plan on adopting the little guy. I think we would get along quite nicely.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Regift
I considered giving you my heart but I thought you might regift it.
Like the hollow shell of a heart-shaped candy box once all the chocolate poker chips vanish
Well, let’s see.
I’ve already run out of baby teeth thanks to all those grade school crushes.
My tonsils never got a chance to be a sign of my affection, but
My appendix sure did.
You were the last person I saw before I woke up in agony.
We watched a movie and I pretended you were a pillow
A pillow with hands that massaged the back of my head
Weaving your fingers through my hair like shoelaces
The next morning I couldn’t wash you out of my hair or pluck you out of my head
And my abdomen was on fire
Afterwards, I made a fake appendix made out of old steak and nestled it in a salsa jar
Gifted it at a white elephant and got a lot of horrified laughter
I guess if you’ve never seen something irl before, you might mistake a piece of meat for something that used to be very much alive.
Something that actually had a purpose
So even though you can’t hold my appendix in the palm of your hand like a misshapen strawberry
Go ahead and name it. It’s yours.
Try not to make it embarrassing like Atticus the Appendix. Maybe Felix or Fernando.
Something as exotic or antiquated as his vestigial origins.
Maybe Nero or Caligula
Something poisoned with power and responsible for his own demise.
Treat it like a pet rock or raisin or chia pet.
Totally functionless yet decorative
The result of someone not knowing what to get you or knowing exactly what to get you
Or just a total gag
Like the hollow shell of a heart-shaped candy box once all the chocolate poker chips vanish
Well, let’s see.
I’ve already run out of baby teeth thanks to all those grade school crushes.
My tonsils never got a chance to be a sign of my affection, but
My appendix sure did.
You were the last person I saw before I woke up in agony.
We watched a movie and I pretended you were a pillow
A pillow with hands that massaged the back of my head
Weaving your fingers through my hair like shoelaces
The next morning I couldn’t wash you out of my hair or pluck you out of my head
And my abdomen was on fire
Afterwards, I made a fake appendix made out of old steak and nestled it in a salsa jar
Gifted it at a white elephant and got a lot of horrified laughter
I guess if you’ve never seen something irl before, you might mistake a piece of meat for something that used to be very much alive.
Something that actually had a purpose
So even though you can’t hold my appendix in the palm of your hand like a misshapen strawberry
Go ahead and name it. It’s yours.
Try not to make it embarrassing like Atticus the Appendix. Maybe Felix or Fernando.
Something as exotic or antiquated as his vestigial origins.
Maybe Nero or Caligula
Something poisoned with power and responsible for his own demise.
Treat it like a pet rock or raisin or chia pet.
Totally functionless yet decorative
The result of someone not knowing what to get you or knowing exactly what to get you
Or just a total gag
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
You Put the Rue in Ruin
If you and I made ravioli, they would sucker punch the stuffing out of Big Bird and his league of cohorts.
We synergize like cosmic Velcro.
Every shared thought another link in the chain link Zoot suit that balloons out with a gas so toxic it turns Teflon into silken lace.
We zip-line from aerated prawns over to mandolin-playing carnies who speak fluent Portuguese without missing a beat.
Moonbouncing upward like an adolescent hero scaling video game chair lifts toward a giant provolone cheese wheel.
If I had a penny for every time I beat you to your own punchline, I would have many pennies.
I can only partially rue the day I met you.
You lured me in like an angler fish playing mariachi music.
My face veiled by sunglasses the first time, mathematical face paint the second time.
The probability you came to the party to check me out: 1
Your slow motion dance moves were surprisingly effective. You even serenaded a plastic bag coyly perched on the dance floor.
I thought I had the upper hand, but the tables mesmerize me with how they have turned in on themselves like whole wheat pasta dough that needs more water.
Crumbled and flaky on the heirloom place mat that never seems to be big enough to contain the mess.
The thing about being brain twins is that you should know what I’m thinking.
You should know how trapped I feel, trying to rationalize a situation over which I have no control.
Pros and cons might as well be dead leaves on the sidewalk.
Some prettier than others but all nonetheless expired
Like moths in a vat of honey.
We synergize like cosmic Velcro.
Every shared thought another link in the chain link Zoot suit that balloons out with a gas so toxic it turns Teflon into silken lace.
We zip-line from aerated prawns over to mandolin-playing carnies who speak fluent Portuguese without missing a beat.
Moonbouncing upward like an adolescent hero scaling video game chair lifts toward a giant provolone cheese wheel.
If I had a penny for every time I beat you to your own punchline, I would have many pennies.
I can only partially rue the day I met you.
You lured me in like an angler fish playing mariachi music.
My face veiled by sunglasses the first time, mathematical face paint the second time.
The probability you came to the party to check me out: 1
Your slow motion dance moves were surprisingly effective. You even serenaded a plastic bag coyly perched on the dance floor.
I thought I had the upper hand, but the tables mesmerize me with how they have turned in on themselves like whole wheat pasta dough that needs more water.
Crumbled and flaky on the heirloom place mat that never seems to be big enough to contain the mess.
The thing about being brain twins is that you should know what I’m thinking.
You should know how trapped I feel, trying to rationalize a situation over which I have no control.
Pros and cons might as well be dead leaves on the sidewalk.
Some prettier than others but all nonetheless expired
Like moths in a vat of honey.
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