Anticipation

 

the door of anticipation - light on the other side

I know I've been teasing about the upcoming seminar series.  I just got so excited I wanted to share that with everyone!

But the infrastructure needs to be put into place and my guild mate is working on that.

They say if you want something done, ask a busy person to do it and she is one of the busiest I know!  In our guild alone she wears multiple hats, including treasurer and newsletter person.  Along with other roles as they come up.

Late last night she emailed saying she had been working on the website but it was proving more complicated than she had hoped, made a suggestion about how to go about doing the registration, and said that the newsletter with the info about the series would be sent out shortly.

So we are nearly there, folks!

If you have joined as an associate member, you should be getting the newsletter with the information.  Otherwise, the info will be posted to the website after the newsletter is sent out.  Only fair that guild members get the news first.

In the meantime I worked on my own Power Point file yesterday, then realized that I needed to add a caption to all the photos I had already added.  Which means going through right from the beginning to edit each slide in order to add them.  What can I say?  I'm a novice at this kind of thing.

But I am also learning.  The past year I have begun to understand the importance of making my teaching materials more friendly in terms of people who need things like captions.  It's a small enough thing to do and will help everyone.

Last winter I saw a meme with a group of students waiting for the access to a school to be cleared.  The person in the wheelchair pointed out that if the ramp would get cleared first everyone could use that, but the person clearing the snow insisted on clearing the steps first.

The point is, when society is made accessible to people with mobility or other issues, society as a whole benefits.

So I am trying to be mindful of things like captions for photos. 

I'm still not doing it on the blog as often as I should - and am going to scroll up and put a caption under the photo at the head of this post, because...becoming aware is an incremental process.  

I've come to realize that that reality bubble that everyone is talking about is more an onion than a bubble.  Because as you remove one layer of being unaware, another presents itself.  There is no magic bullet, just long hard assessment of one's own attitudes and changing of one's behaviour.

So I go to peel another layer now...

First Day

 

It won't last.  It's just the intimation of winter.  The promise that it's coming.

I have lived here all my life and I enjoy the passing of the seasons.  Some more than others, to be honest.  

I don't mind winter, as such.  I actually dislike spring break up a whole lot more, with it's grey dreary days, the slush, the sloppy roads, the drying up, then hello, here's another dump of snow!

But winter?  I don't mind too much.  As long as it doesn't get too extreme.  Not too cold.  Not too much snow.

But my preferences don't matter.  The weather will do what the weather will.

I find it comforting to see the seasons come and go.  The constant cycle of renewal.  The spring green, deepening into summer.  The sometimes gaudy autumn.  Then the quiet of winter, when snow blankets everything.  Sounds are subdued.  People seem to draw in on themselves.  Take time to reflect at the ending of the year.  The cycle complete.

For many years now the most important day of the year for me is not the 'official' calendar new year but the winter solstice.  That is the day when the true new year begins.  The sun stops it's journey south and begins to return.  The returning of the light.

People living a lot further north than I do have actual endless dark.  For me it's just a very short 'day'.  And often times, like today, that 'day' is pretty dark.  Gloomy.  On those days, the snow helps as it amplifies what light there is.

And so must we amplify what light there is.  Dig for those silver linings.  Light candles, actually or even just metaphorically.

Time to lift each other up.  Until the returning of the sun.

Imposter Syndrome

 

Not so long ago, someone I went to school with commented that other students assumed that I was confident and in control.

I blurted out a HA!  Imposter Syndrome!

I never know why people think that I am confident or in control of anything when I have never felt that of myself.  Behind whatever public persona people are viewing, inside I have dealt with the anxiety of not knowing if what I was doing - most of the time - was even possible.

Could I teach?  Well, I was able to muddle through.  And the more I did it, I suppose the more competent I looked.  Thing was, I *wanted* to teach.  And I wanted to be good at it.  So I kept trying, this, that and the other, until I finally felt that most students eventually got something out of what I was doing.  Not all.  And the dissatisfied ones always made sure I knew they weren't satisfied.  It took a long time for me to squash the guilt that I hadn't been the 'right' teacher for them.

Name any other thing I've done and the same dynamic has always been in play.

Can I do a keynote lecture.  Um, ok, I think so.  

Can I write articles?  I can try.

Can I run a business?  Successfully?  For certain values of.

The thing that I never let happen, though, was to let my anxiety and fear stop me from doing what I really wanted to do.  And perhaps that is what was resonating with the people around me.  Maybe that is what they were seeing.  My determination.  My persistence.  My stubbornness.  Because I wasn't ever confident or felt in control of anything beyond what I could put into doing what I wanted to do.

Was it ever enough?  I hope so.  I think so.  I did the best I could, is all I can say.  At times I probably failed, too, but learn from your mistakes and continue has been my motto.

When I 'retired' I was doing so for a number of reasons, none of them having to do with not wanting to write or teach again.  So when I was asked to do a Zoom presentation, I was like um, well, I guess.  Because I knew it would be a learning curve.  On the other hand, I had already begun working on the Sunday Seminar Series, and I thought ok, by giving a presentation, I will have a better idea of how to help those speakers who are feeling just as unsure, just as trepidatious as I am.  If I go first, I can help them.

Several of the speakers are new to Zoom, too, and feeling nervous so if I can do it, I can assure them that it can be done and that I will be there to help them.

But that's the other thing - the seminar series.  I came up with the idea because I knew everyone, particularly my local guild members, were feeling the isolation.  And I knew going into winter it was going to just keep on getting worse as I saw the second wave beginning to build in September.

I wanted to give them something to look forward to.  As I thought about it, I realized the potential of doing this, not just for local guild members, but local folk who might be interested in general topics about textiles.  And then I realized that we didn't need to constrain it to just locals, but anyone who had internet, which meant pretty much anywhere.  When that realization came, I got really excited.

Now that we will be ready to launch in the next few days, my anxiety is kicking in again.  I've booked people who are well known, and some who are not but who have valuable insights to share.  I've booked people with a large social media presence, and some who don't.  I've booked people from other countries, other continents, heck, the other hemisphere.  And it's been lovely and delightful and energizing.  But that inner doubter has risen and tapped me on the shoulder sowing doubt.

And I will do what I always do - kick that demon out of my way.  Because I feel right about this project.  Whether or not it becomes a fund raiser for the guild to help pay the room rent, only time will tell.  But in the meantime, I have provided some income for the speakers, most of whom are dealing with income fragility due to events being cancelled.  And while the fee for the series speakers isn't going to make up for all the things that have been cancelled, it is something.  And if the ones who are feeling doubtful about being able to do a Zoom presentation find that it's not horrible, and more guilds find that Zoom programs are actually better than nothing, maybe more speakers will join in, more guilds will join in, and we can beat back the isolation we are all dealing with and learn something new.  Together.  But safely distant.

Stay home if you can.  Wear a mask if you need to go out.  Stay safe and well until we can meet in person safely.  {{{hugs}}} to those who need one

Hubris

 

Once again I was reminded that I need to check ALL of the sheds to make sure they are clear before I jump in and begin weaving.

What this photo doesn't show is the repair I had to make due to a sleying error.

We are now advanced enough in the season that it is beginning to get dark by late afternoon.  We will get a reprieve when the clocks get turned back in a few weeks, but I took this quickndirtyndark shot under the loom to show someone inquiring about the latest warp what it would look like on the 'right' side.  Because I'm weaving it 'upside down' in order to lift the fewest number of shafts.

I got about 1/3 of the way through the first towel when my eye finally picked up the 'odd' thing happening and I stopped to try and figure it out.  I'm still not sure what was happening, just that somehow a couple of threads got wrapped around their neighbour threads and had to be cut out and re-directed.  Either I will keep this towel for me, or it can be cut up into dish cloths for a friend who prefers my oopsies rather than commercially made ones.

Or I'm quite sure a friend will take it off my hands as a 'second'.

I could have finished the towel as it was because frankly it was still weaving, just with a weird subtle thing happening.  But I didn't want to forget when I went back to the loom for the second towel so went ahead and fixed it.

And thought about the adage:  Don't spend a lot of time on a mistake just because it took a long time making it.

Mistakes are just that.  A miss-take.  They are not a character failing - unless you fail to own up to it and fix it.  The world will not end if you make a mistake in your weaving.  So when a miss-take happens?  It's just proof that you are human.  Mistakes happen.  Fix it and move on.

Last night I connected with the guild I'm giving the presentation to in Nov.  They approved of my approach so over the next few days I will begin pulling samples, sorting through my gigantic photo file looking for photos to illustrate my talk, and begin to build a Power Point presentation.  And then we'll do a quick run through.  Because I'm a Zoom newbie and nervous.

Hubris.  It's a thing.  And I still make mistakes.

(I am working on becoming more comfortable with Zoom and willing to do guild programs.  Also willing to tailor the topic to the guild interests.)

Autumn Days

 

A few years ago I worked with indie dyers to create painted warps for scarves.  I had resisted doing this for a long time, but realized I worked with commercially dyed yarns all the time.  So much better to work with a dyer personally, to get yarns I wanted instead of working with something much more anonymous.

Opening my mind and attitude towards such a collaboration was kind of, well, mind blowing.  It was an awakening of sorts, insofar as I realized, yet again, that no, I do not need to Do It All, All By Myself.

If my role, my life, is defined as being a weaver, it is fine for me to understand the other textile arts, but I don't need to become proficient at all of them.  Just having the understanding of how they work is enough.  I can respect what they do more deeply, but I don't need to have the full blown studio and equipment required.  I can support other textile artists by paying them to provide my materials.

But it took me some time to come that understanding and realization!  I'm nothing if not stubborn.  Or persistent.

Right now I am beginning to percolate my thoughts and ideas for the Zoom presentation I am booked to give in November.  I had to think about what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it.  Yesterday I came up with an over all 'theme' and I think it fits in with what they have asked me to talk about.  Essentially what it is like to be a professional/production weaver.

It is half way through October, and the leaves here are past their peak in terms of autumn finery.  Sn*w is officially in the forecast for this week.  Autumn is nearly done.  The seasons of the year continue to roll through, no matter what we humans are dealing with.  

Soon enough it will be winter.  Hopefully progress will be made re: the pandemic but in the meantime, it may mean that we will have to isolate for the winter months before we see a true 'beginning of the end'.  Health officials here remain optimistic but warn that we must not become complacent.

My way of coping with it all is to turn to the internet.  I message with friends.  I blog, something that seems to have become a daily occurrence, not just when I have something 'important' to share.  I truly did not have 'pandemic diarist' on my Life Bingo Card.   And yet...

On a personal level, the next warp is ready to weave.  I might get two towels done yet today.  Or I might not.  When I look at the shelves I see dozens and dozens of tea towels ready to go.  We are hoping that people will come to the guild room sale.  It would be nice to sell some of those tea towels.  I know other guild members have things to sell - hand spun yarn, woven, knitted, felted items.  If nothing else, staying home and away from social events means some of us have made a bunch of things.

I am hoping that we get this pandemic under control well enough that the Olds classes can go ahead in Cape Breton - still the lowest case numbers in Canada.  But it means those of us outside the Maritime Bubble need to also be free of the disease in order to go there.  I am NOT complaining about that - just hoping that the rest of the country can it's act together, too.

Stay home if you can.  Wear a mask if you need to go out.  Maintain safe social distance.  Wash your hands.

Interesting Times

 

challenging jigsaw puzzle

 

hemmed towels, ready for final pressing

One of the challenges of 'retirement' is the new approach to my day.  One of the reasons I stopped production weaving and shut down my business was my increasingly challenging health issues.  In the past few months I have managed to resolve some of those issues, but not all.  And coming to grips with my new 'reality' has been emotionally challenging.  Dealing with a pandemic hasn't helped either, as many health services were highly curtailed which meant delays.

Coming up with the idea of the Sunday Seminars has proved a tonic and I'm feeling much more interested in doing things, especially when they can be done remotely and therefore safely in this time of Covid-19

But there are days when I feel as though I'm making very little discernible progress.  I don't remember when I started the puzzle, but this is as far as I've gotten.  And I do try to work on it a little every evening.  But even water will erode rock, so...

Yesterday we met for the last time this year out of doors for the small stitch n bitch group I am a part of.  It was only 10 or 11C and we got thoroughly chilled sitting out in my carport for a couple of hours.  I figured I would warm up quickly and I could continue threading the next warp, but it took a lot longer than expected and finally I decided that threading was not on the cards for that day.  I did however, finish hemming the towels from the warp that got cut off on Friday.  Today they will get their final press and four will be packaged up to go to their new home tomorrow.  Today is a national holiday so the post office isn't open anyway, so tomorrow is shipping date.

I also worked a bit on the Seminar Series and should be getting info on one of the seminars today.  If the info gets posted to the guild website this week, I will begin promoting the seminars.  In the meantime, anyone who wants to join as an associate member, the cost is $26.25, you get the newsletter, can participate in other on line guild offerings, and get the guild member rate for the seminars.

I've stopped contacting folk for now because I'm waiting for feedback from guild members about who they would like to hear from, but there are speakers booked from Jan-Sept so far.  And I have not come close to running out of options.  We really do have a community with talent to draw from!

The field of textiles is endlessly fascinating.  I follow several historians on Twitter who specialize in clothing or the history of textile manufacture in some way.  I am constantly intrigued and delighted to learn more.  I also follow the Ashmolean Museum which frequently posts photos of items from their collection, including textiles.

We live in 'interesting' times, in more than one way.  

Human beings are incredibly adaptable.  We need to be aware of how to safely navigate through this pandemic (and who knows how many more to come) and we have the technology to do this remotely.  

In the meantime, stay home if you can, wear a mask if you need to go out, wash your hands.  {{{hugs}}} to any who need one.

An Open Mind

 

Recently I saw a tweet from someone in a different discipline say "It depends!"  So, not just textiles, then.

One of the reasons I finally buckled down and finished* (for certain values of) writing this book was the people who simply did not know what they did not know.  Therefore they didn't know the questions they needed to ask in order to add to their foundation of knowledge.

I also saw on line that there was poor information being shared.  Solutions rooted in the 'magic bullet' way of solving anything.  Applying Bandaids instead of understanding the principles of the craft.  There were solutions rooted in 'tradition' (we always do it this way!) as if we aren't adaptable and can come up with other ways of doing processes, or devising new tools, but must constantly fall back on old ways of doing things.

Not that the 'old' ways are bad, just that maybe there are other ways.  It depends.

As mentioned previously, the kernel for finally writing this stuff down was an Olds student who, after my doing my 'thing' about selvedges and ALL the considerations that affect them, asked if there was a book where they could find this information.  All in one place, as it were.

After thinking long and hard, I realized that there was no such book that discussed the nuances of the processes.

I responded to a tweet this morning that the onus is on the instructor to explain things in many different ways (because not everyone processes info in the same way, but also because not everyone is on the same page in terms of foundational knowledge - but didn't say this bit because it's a tweet - and how much can you actually put in a tweet? - not much), BUT that the onus is on the student to keep an open mind in order to receive new information, absorb it, and put it into their practice if they find it might be helpful.

And not everyone does that.  There always seems to be one in the crowd who falls back on 'tradition'.  The "I've always done it this way and I'm not changing, because this is how I do this thing."

Fair enough.  But my question then becomes - it you didn't want to learn something that you didn't know, why are you here?  Never asked out loud, of course, because that then becomes adversarial and I have a class to teach.  But I do wonder...

My approach has always been to go on to the others in the room who are interested in learning new things and let the traditionalist do what they prefer to do.  As long as they are happy, it's none of my business.  (One student came to me after a class and commented that she should have researched me better before coming to class - said in a way that indicated that she wouldn't have bothered if she had known.)

There is much knowledge in tradition.  Many times the traditional way of doing something in a culture is the most efficient/ergonomic way of doing the task with the level of technology that was available to them.

The fact that all the cultures in the world were built on what our ancestors were able to do is quite frankly, amazing.  The fact that a certain sub-set of 'white' people insist that our ancestors couldn't possibly make the things being found in grave goods or at digs, that aliens must have visited (usually some sort of white messiah alien) makes me cringe.  As if human beings didn't evolve and develop and make wonderful things because something in the human soul needed roses as well as bread.

Human beings are puzzling creatures.  On the one hand they can be incredibly kind and compassionate.  At others, hurtful and harmful.

If people could just open their minds all the way up, accept that they may not know everything, that maybe the indigenous cultures might know more than they do and should accept that fact would be a great first step in moving forward.  

Today is turkey day in Canada (Thanksgiving, but I've come to accept that the whole myth about 'thanksgiving' is based on a colonial history I'm no longer wishing to promote), and while I recognize that an official day to show gratitude is A Good Thing, I am also aware of the racism still being used to suppress others.

The way to grow as human beings is to keep an open mind.  Some people talk about 'beginner' mind.  I would like to acknowledge that kind of attitude as an open mind - a mind willing to take on board new information, add it to what is already in long term memory, find out how it enhances what is already in there, figure out how and when that new knowledge might be applicable in my practice.

Having an open mind means learning new things about society and history.  Recognizing that the 'winner' writes the history that gets passed down, and perhaps it might be a good idea to read accounts written by the 'conquered'.  Find out more about the actual society that has been displaced instead of assuming that my immediate ancestors were the 'gold' standard of culture.

Personally that means reading books written by aboriginal people - not just in North America but other countries/continents.  That means listening to archeologists who are amplifying the actual history of the people they are learning about, and respecting the local folk they are working with.  Listening to performers - singers, dancers, poets - of different cultures.  Reading history that tells a more complete story.

So on this day of gratitude, I say thank you to the ancestors, the giants on whose shoulders we stand.  I recognize and accept that my DNA goes back to the original people.  It includes (according to the National Geographic genome project) Neanderthal and Denisovan DNA.

We are all cousins.  We all come from the same ancestor.  We are one people.  What matters is what is inside the heart, not the colour of the skin.

*It is said that an author never finishes writing a book, they simply stop writing the book.  So it was with this.  I am quite sure that I will continue to learn because learning to work with textiles is a lifetime of exploration and learning new things.  Revising previous information based on the new thing I have learned.  Recently I referred a friend asking a question about tablet weaving to someone who actually knows something about tablet weaving.  I know just enough about tablet weaving to understand just how little I know about it.  Saying "I don't know" is not a character failing.  It is just a statement of fact.  So while I tried to make this book comprehensive, I do not claim to know it all.