Crafting from the Roots Up

Coming into midlife has been challenging for me. I struggle with relinquishing who I was as a young adult, and I balk at moving into a future that is frighteningly wide open. I am emerging from my middle age metamorphic cocoon still not knowing what type of butterfly I am. What do I want to do with my life – the second half? The excitement of being able to reinvent myself is counterbalanced by the lonely glare of a blank slate framed by adult fear and indecision. I could reinvent myself…but as what? There are so many vocational options, unlimited activities to try, dozens of interesting crafts calling my name, and many facets of my personality to explore. I feel like a teenager again. Yet unlike a girl of 18, I am a “mature” woman with a lot less time to waste. My second half has an expiration date that was absent in my first half. I’d like to get to the heart of the matter soon and spend those precious second-half days doing things that make me truly happy; I want to grow back into the soul of the child I was meant to be.

There is something very overwhelming about having too many options. Which one of those numerous potential new activities and creative pursuits is “the one”? In order to discover my lost self, I had to take a trip back in time to my crafting roots. Was there an art or craft that always captured my heart? I began to remember the things I asked for as a child: crayons, books, a typewriter, paper, pencils, thread, fabric, a camera, more paper, more crayons, yet more books...some items were very prominent in my recollections. These key objects represented activities that brought me joy at an early age, and are interests to which I am drawn once again.

Looking back, I always liked to play with color and texture. I can remember the pleasure of opening a fresh box of Crayola crayons with their rainbow of colors to delight the eye. One Christmas I received an enormous box of crayons, well over a hundred, packed neatly in a large, flat box along with a crayon sharpener and a few other art supplies. I was in heaven! Then there was the holiday which brought a “learn to draw” set which came with a pressed board drawing surface, a book on how to draw horses (my passion at the time), a sketch book, a box of charcoals, and some professional pencils. I felt like an artist. When I was older, my mother bought me a “real” set of Prismacolor colored pencils and a small palette of Grumbacher watercolors. We even went to an honest-to-goodness art store to purchase them. I spent hours drawing, mostly horses and other animals, but I also designed clothes and imagined they would be in pattern books or fashion magazines some day. Many of those colored pencils were worn down to little stubs in no time, but I never had the heart to throw them away.

Does anyone remember collecting S&H Green Stamps years ago? My mother would get these stamps when she made purchases at the grocery store; when you saved enough stamps and pasted them in a little paperback book, you could get your choice of items from a catalog. After weeks of squirreling away and attaching those little green tickets (I can still taste the stamp glue!), I was able to make my dream purchase: my first camera. I was still in elementary school at the time so this was very exciting. My choice was a Spartus Vanguard, made by Herold Products. It took color or black-and-white photographs with 127 film and it had a bulbous flash set in a silver-lined cup that looked like a small radar dish. It seems so antiquated now, but at the time it was my window on the world; it was a way to capture the beauty of nature or to forever frame a moment in time. I wanted my photos to be like the ones in National Geographic magazine, which came every month like clockwork in my parents’ mail. The magazine’s pictures seemed perfectly composed, romantic and mysterious. Every one told a wordless story about people and places that existed in a world different from my own. Of course, of the hundreds of pictures I took with that boxy camera, only a few turned out even remotely like the magazine shots, but I kept trying.

And let’s not forget the world of crafting. During my younger days I tried a lot of different things from sewing to knitting to embroidery. In middle school I learned to follow a pattern to make clothes, and I sewed some simple decorating items for my room. Like a lot of other little girls I made clothes and jewelry for my Barbie dolls, and I created jewelry for myself from beads and buttons. (Have you ever seen beads made from drops of Elmer’s glue?!) One of my favorite collections that I still have today is a mixture of plastic beads that I keep in an old, blue and white, metal cookie tin. One day my family stopped at a country store not far from a relative’s house. In one room of the store was a large, wooden whiskey barrel filled with beads. For a small amount one could purchase a bag of beads in a random assortment of sizes and hues. I remember dipping my hands deep into that cornucopia of color and wiggling my fingers through the round bits of plastic as if I had discovered a pirate’s chest filled with gold coins.

But the most enduring of my childhood passions grew from my love of books, which were my constant childhood companions. Like photographs, books could transport me into foreign places and let me tag along on adventures that could only take place in my imagination. Words were enticing and playful, beautiful and magical. They had power and yet they could be shaped into landscapes, actions and images. Words could communicate on paper what a shy kid like me couldn't verbalize. I loved those words and I wanted to write them too. So sometime when I was about 8, I asked my parents for a way to write faster than I could by hand. My wish was granted in the form of a brown, plastic typewriter that had cream-toned keys. I banged on that typewriter for hours; my parents got their money’s worth from that purchase! Eventually I graduated to a more grown-up, metal, Smith-Corona and, sadly, the poor little plastic typewriter went the way of all well-used toys. However, it will always have a fond place in my heart.

Vintage Hermes 3000 typewriter I purchased at a yard sale brings back memories of my childhood writing friend.

So, as we grow older, do we grow back into the creative people we used to be; the people we were born to be? If we are lucky, I think the answer is yes. Though many of my interests popped up here and there during my 20’s and 30’s, I am now beginning to return to my roots with more fervor in my midlife rediscovery of drawing, needlework, sewing, photography, beading, and, through the wonders of technology, writing. Blogging is undoubtedly an addictive outlet for word-lovers! This emerging butterfly might have finally found her wings.

I asked friends in my Etsy BBEST team (Boomer and Beyond Etsy Street Team) to look back at what arts and crafts they were drawn to as children. Did they carry these interests into adulthood or do they find themselves returning to these parts of their earlier selves? Their insightful and interesting answers will be posted tomorrow!

Creative Composting

Writing has always been one of my favorite pastimes, but my inspiration for it comes in waves, and I don't produce a steady stream of written works all year long. I tend to focus my energies on different projects in different seasons. I haven’t been attending to my writing during the past few months because I have been researching, planning, and nurturing my incipient garden, which is promising to be bigger than it was last year at this time. For the past two summers I have been experimenting with one method of raised bed gardening that reminds me of the ebb and flow of my writing endeavors: lasagna or sheet-mulch planting. For those not familiar with this method, here is a summary. Place a thick layer of newspapers and cardboard over the grass. Soak thoroughly with water. One can construct foot-high, wooden walls for the new garden bed, but it isn’t entirely necessary. Add straw and other organic waste matter – wood chips, kitchen vegetable scraps, grass clippings, leaves, yard trimmings, or any kind of non-toxic plant matter. Then pile on a layer of compost, and mulch generously. One option is to cover this layer cake with a sheet of black plastic to speed up the decomposition process, but it isn’t absolutely necessary. And voila, in a couple of months, depending on the temperature, you will start to have a nice, rich earthy mass of nutrients to feed your plants. No double-digging or sweating for hours with a hoe and shovel trying to encourage our rocky New England soil to part with its rubble. This method builds up rather than excavates down. With any luck, you will also be able to dig down into the rotting pile of biological refuse to find a squirming layer of earthworms busy doing their job churning life into the future soil you have started.

It’s really quite a magical natural process, and it all happens without much effort on the gardener’s part beyond the initial set-up. One can even toss in non-animal food scraps and grass clippings over the course of the year and enrich the pile, heaping on new fodder for future gardening. Keep adding organic matter to the mess as time goes on and the soil just gets better and better. And it all happens underneath the surface, under the cover of mulch or plastic, and completely out of view. The magic happens so subtly that peeking under the outer layer during the incubating period would not be advised. Allow the mystery to stay behind Mother Nature’s magic curtain. It is best just to have faith and believe that, indeed, a voluptuous brown earth, steaming and teeming with vital nutrients, will be waiting to nourish your plants and, in the end, you.

Our "Arbor Garden" with its archway made from a recycled cedar swing set.
Hinged, arched doors were created out of reclaimed, old barn boards.

How does decaying vegetal matter remind me of writing you ask? Well I don’t want to reveal too much of what goes on under my mulch, but trust me, covering up the brain and letting the worms work into that gray matter is an absolutely necessary part of my creative process. I suppose that doesn’t paint a very pretty picture, but I warned you not to peek under the outer layer until it’s time to plant! I’ve been very guilty of lifting up that thought-incubating plastic way too many times before the soil was ripe; I was often repulsed and discouraged against creating anything by the nasty sight of ideas not yet fully ready for growing into fully-leafed projects. Remember: Never peek! Trust that nature is stewing and churning beneath the surface of your skull.

When the time is right, and the temperature has the reached proper level, the stink of rotting thoughts subsides and the pleasantly sweet aroma of creative compost will signal that your mind-garden is ready for cultivation. Lift up the top mulch, throw in some seeds, and watch what grows. A veritable cornucopia of essays and poems, art work, and literary fruits will blossom if you just let the land between your ears lay fallow for a little while. Composing in the compost increases your creative yield. Trust me, decay and dirt are good things despite what your mother may have taught you. Now pardon me while I put back my mulch. My artistic compost pile needs to stew a little longer.

Feeling Knotty

Since I took a short workshop on making knotted jewelry with silk yarn a few months ago, I have had the urge to create more knotted pieces. There is something very satisfying about the feel of working with thread and cord; I imagine it must be the same meditative groove that knitters and crochet enthusiasts slip into when they are deeply occupied with their craft. Manipulating yarns and threads can be very soothing. The rhythmic and repetitive motion coupled with the textural sensation of fiber against the fingers elicits some ancient human memory of a time when making things by hand was both a daily part of survival and an artistic expression.

There's nothing really naughty about feeling "knotty", though it did cause me to break my "no new supplies" fast with the purchase of more silk cord. In fact, knotted jewelry requires far fewer tools than any other type of bead-craft making it a highly portable crafting pastime. The floral necklace pictured above was made using Griffin silk cord, Czech glass beads, gold glass pearls, gold-filled clamshell tips and jump rings, a gold-filled clasp, chain-nose pliers, and a knotting tweezer. Sounds fairly simple? Well, a moderate amount of patience and advance planning is also required because the design needs to be carefully arranged before the first knot is tied; constant measurements must be taken as the work progresses, especially in the "tin cup" style (seen below) which includes numerous spaces between knots where the cord is left uncovered. Once the knots start happening there is no turning back. If you have ever tried to remove a knot from a piece of fine yarn or thread, you will know that your frustration often ends with a pair of scissors and a few choice words. A misplaced knot in a piece of knotted jewelry most likely will mean starting the design from scratch.












The design name "tin cup" comes from a movie of the same name in which the character played by actress René Russo wore a necklace made of pearls knotted at intervals along a lightweight silk cord. This style gained popularity from film exposure and now it has become a classic jewelry design. A "tin cup" necklace or bracelet can be formed along silk cord, nylon monofilament with crimps, nylon cord, waxed linen thread, or multiple strands of silk yarn, as in this lariat style necklace that was my first piece constructed during the workshop I attended. These Swarovski crystals in various shades of topaz and jonquil seem to float on 8 strands of very lightweight, metallic, Japanese silk yarns. Individually these silk yarns are no thicker than fine sewing thread, but together they are quite strong while creating a delicate effect. A lariat style necklace made with silk cord would be great for someone who is allergic to metal for no clasps are required. Closure is achieved by looping one end over the other, and the length can be varied depending on where the ends are crossed.

Knotting has been used for centuries to string pearls. Better quality pearl necklaces are usually strung on silk cord with knots in between each pearl; this keeps the pearls from rubbing against each other and becoming damaged during the course of normal wear. The other benefit of placing a knot between each pearl or bead is that if the strand breaks, only one bead drops out. The rest stay securely in place. Pearl knotting with one knot after each bead in a continuous sequence is easier than making something tin cup style because no measuring of open spaces is required. The necklace below was done this way using a variety of Czech glass beads in jet black and red. The lovely flower centerpiece is a handmade polymer bead made by ZudaGay, a very talented artist who creates beautiful multi-hued beads, pendants, and ACEOs (Art Cards, Editions and Originals) by blending and sculpting polymer clay. Her wonderful garden of designs can be found in her Etsy shop, http://www.zudagay.etsy.com.

True, though silk is strong, it will eventually wear and break, especially if the jewelry is worn frequently. It has been suggested that knotted pearls should be restrung every few years. Silk cord also should not be exposed to water. (No showering or swimming while wearing knotted beads!) Yet knotted jewelry is supple and has a wonderful drape, and the silk cord adds a gentle sheen to the overall appearance of each piece. The extra labor involved in hand-knotting makes this type of jewelry very special and unique.

I have many more knotty creations floating around in my mind. I have several colors of waxed linen cord that are "fit to be tied," so to speak. Knotted linen would yield a more casual look and might be interesting combined with stones and wood beads. No matter what the materials, I am sure I will be feeling "knotty" for some time to come.

Fiber, Paper, Scissors

Recently I took a little side trip away from making jewelry into the wonderful world of paper and fiber by taking an online class called Journal Making for the Fiber Artist. During the 5-week class, students learned techniques to make five different types of blank journals that have fiber covers and stitched-in paper sections known as “signatures.” Although I have only completed the first lesson in the series (my first journal is pictured to the left), I enjoyed using new techniques and working in a fresh medium. I found I had fun playing with paper, especially applying embellishments using paper punches and eyelets. There is nothing like diving into a new artistic realm to spark one’s sluggish creativity. one’s sluggish creativity.

Our instructor and creator of the journal projects is Sue Bleiweiss. Sue is a talented mixed media fiber artist, a teacher, publisher of the online mixed media zine Fibre & Stitch, and an energetic, creative individual who is always experimenting with new techniques and materials to develop unique surface treatments for her many artistic projects. Her primary focus at the moment is exploring the creation of 3D structures such as fabric boxes, sketchbooks and journals. Sue writes that she is “enjoying the challenge of adapting traditional book binding techniques to work with fabrics and fibers.” Her work is showcased in her Etsy shop, http://www.suebleiweiss.etsy.com.

I had the pleasure of meeting Sue at her home where she gave me a tour of her studio, which contained many works in progress, including fabric in process on her loom for a magazine feature, and new designs for fabric journals. When asked what sparked the development of her handcrafted journals, and how the marriage of fiber and paper took place, Sue replied, “I'm not really sure why I started making journals. I think it came from wondering if I could adapt traditional bookbinding techniques to work with fiber and fabric. My first designs started out fairly simple with plain paper insides. Now I spend just as much time (and sometimes a lot more!) creating the insides as I do on the outsides.”

Although her worktable is currently covered in supplies and notes for creating samples for her latest journal making class, she is always thinking about the next project. Sue’s talents cover a wide range of interests, including weaving, fabric painting and dyeing, handbag design, construction of fabric boxes, and papermaking and embellishment. Sue is now happily immersed in fiber art and teaching, but until six years ago she worked in the high tech world building online reporting and financial analysis systems. Sue recalls her decision to make a career path change. “I decided that I wanted a less stressful and slower paced way of life so I left it to pursue some other things. I started out weaving and spent a couple of years selling my weavings and handbags. I fell into online teaching a couple of years ago when I was approached about creating an online class teaching silk fusion. I love to teach and have been developing and offering online classes ever since.”

Sue’s enthusiasm for helping her students and seeing them enjoy exploring new mediums is obvious; she is very prompt and thorough in replying to their questions during class. “I absolutely love to teach, it's one of my favorite things to do besides the actual creating,” she explains. “I am in the process of developing a second journal making class and another mixed media techniques class. The techniques class will either be a 12-week class or two 6-week classes. I haven't decided yet. I also have on the ‘to develop’ list to create a new updated version of my Silk Fusion class.”

During our visit, I found myself inspired by Sue’s willingness to dive into new projects and to venture into unknown artistic realms, places where many of us hesitate to go without much deliberation and analysis. I wondered if her creative process had a particular format; if there was a pattern to the way she brought an idea from a passing thought to a finished product. Was there something that inspired her or got her creative juices flowing? Sue provided this insight. “My creative process is a hit or miss one. I'm typically in the studio for 6 to 8 hours a day starting at about 6 a.m. Sometimes I go in with the intention of working on an idea that I've sketched out or written down in my notebook and sometimes I go in with no plan at all. The only thing that I do consistently with regards to the creative process is to keep a notebook going at all times. Nothing fancy mind you and it doesn't have any artsy-sketched drawings done in colored pencils or watercolors. It's just page after page of scribbles and notes. Sometimes I paste in something I cut out of a magazine or catalog that caught my eye but mostly it's just notes and lists. This helps to keep me focused and organized so that when I'm ready for instance to start developing a new class or working on a new idea I can refer to my notebook and everything is in one place.”

Sue seems to have a boundless creative energy, which she applies to anything she attempts. I asked if there were any aspects of crafting that she didn’t find appealing and that she wouldn’t try again. Sue did acknowledge, “I tried spinning once and that didn't go well at all! I tried doing glasswork once but didn't really enjoy that either. I prefer the tactile nature of working with fiber.”

Sue’s other hidden talent lies in publishing, and she greatly enjoys the production of the online magazine Fibre & Stitch with her partner Terri Stegmiller. Sue explained how the “zine” was developed. “F&S was started on a whim believe it or not. I was looking for a new challenge and I thought why not try my hand at online publishing. I sent an email to my good friend and now business partner Terri Stegmiller (http://stegart.blogspot.com/) and asked her if she wanted to start up a magazine with me, and two months later we were up and running and taking subscription orders. We're just about ready to publish our 4th issue and we're looking forward to the next four.” Sue and Terri also collaborate on the website Two Creative Studios where both artists offer a number of online learning opportunities in a wide variety of mixed-media fiber arts subjects such as journal making, paper quilting, mixed-media fiber collage, surface design and much more.

Undoubtedly Sue has been very successful in many artistic avenues from weaving to journal making to publishing. She has been featured in magazines such as Belle Armoire, Somerset Studio and Handwoven. I asked her to suggest some tips for those just starting out in the world of marketing their creative work. Sue responded, “My advice to those just starting out is to make yourself as visible as you can. Market yourself online in Yahoo groups, Ning groups, and by being active in the blogging community. Submit work to print and online magazines. Getting published is a terrific way to get your work and name in front of an audience without having to spend any money up front.”

I am thankful to Sue for opening her studio to me and for offering insights into her creative process. I am looking forward to seeing what new techniques and fiber designs emerge from her workshop, guided by her talented hands and inspired by her very fruitful artistic imagination. To keep updated on Sue's latest projects, visit her blog at http://suebleiweiss.typepad.com/sueb/ .

While the muse is away...

We all associate long, dry spells with the middle of a hot summer. Well I have been in a crafting dry spell in the middle of a beautiful spring this year. I haven't made much in the last month. It seems my creative muse has left for vacation without so much as a note or a fond farewell. I think she became scared and took off when I reorganized my crafting space; all that neatness and those nicely arranged shoe boxes on brand new shelving were just too much for her. Miss Creativity needs organized confusion!

So what does one do while creativity is on holiday? Plan for a future crafting journey and gather supplies for the trip of course! While out foraging for crafting provisions for my upcoming adventure learning to weave (see my previous post on my loom acquisition), I happened upon an antique spinning wheel being given away on Craigslist. Being a sucker for an old, abandoned sewing or crafting tool, I was immediately drawn to the poor wheel with its missing spoke, broken flyer, and absent footman. After a little deliberation, I said I would rescue it, all the while hoping my husband would not object to yet another piece of "Are you going to use that?" equipment being brought into the house.

It's an interesting Saxony-style wheel in a lovely, aged cherry color with Colonial-style carved legs and spindles. Naturally, it is pretty dusty and it needs some tightening up here and there. A curious mystery peeks out from under the dust on the bench part of the wheel. Inscribed in large, dotted letters is the following:

"No. 14
R T
1836"

There are also scallop designs all around the top of the bench made in the same dotted style. Are these markings of the maker, or a former owner's personalization? I am trying to solve the mystery as well as locate someone who can tell me if the wheel can be repaired.

What will I do with this wheel you ask? I have had a couple of spinning lessons and I thoroughly enjoyed the rhythmic motions and tactile sensations of working fibers into yarn. I had been perusing Craigslist and eBay looking for a used, modern spinning wheel within my budget to purchase when this little fellow (can spinning wheels be male?) caught my eye. I am still on the hunt for a newer wheel to use for spinning practice, but I would like to repair this old one for both the challenge of trying to use it, as well as to restore and give new life to an antique tool.

So now I have a spinning wheel to repair, a loom waiting to be cleaning and warped (another learning curve to stretch my thinning brain cells), half-finished jewelry projects on my work table, and Sue Bleiweiss' online fabric journal-making class just starting. I hope my muse has had a nice, long rest while she has been away because I have lots of projects wating for her when she returns!