Happy Thanksgiving Project Update!

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving!  Little Red Riding Hood is heading over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house for a slice of pumpkin pie.

I have an exciting update--my WWII diary embroidery won 2nd place in And Stitches E-zine's Old Stitches New Tricks contest!  I have some fun prizes coming my way, which I will show later when I can.  In the meantime, you can check out their comments on me and the other winners.

Stitching a Memory on Veteran's Day

AndStitches e-zine, the blog that I was a guest writer for over the summer, is hosting a contest.  The challenge:

1. Pick something old--a vintage pattern, inherited materials, an antiquated style of embroidery, etc.
2. Use it for a new purpose that is different from how it was intended.

There are all kinds of wacky directions a creative embroiderer can go with this.  Make a traditional crewel embroidery sampler . . . with neon colors!  Cross-stitch . . . on waffles!  I am excited to see what other participants created.  When I saw the contest rules, my mind went in a different direction.  I had a project that I have been planning on doing for a while, but the contest gave me the impetus to do it.

During World War II, nearly all of the adult men in my family served in the United States armed forces.  The one who saw the most action and survived was my great-uncle Morrey.  He was a gunner on a B-17 in the 8th Air Force.  He was stationed in Eye, Suffolk, England, and flew in campaigns over Germany to knock out Nazi oil refineries.  If you survived 25 missions, you got to go home--and he flew 35.

Morrey never had children, so my dad got his war memorabilia.  The box contains pictures of his experiences, including remarkable ones taken from the air of bombs dropping and anti-aircraft flak.  At the bottom of the box was a little notebook, every page counting up from #1.  My great-uncle had written the details for every mission he flew--targets, weaponry, casualties.  This is the stuff that history books are made of.  One page, in particular, caught our attention.  It was about a mission that had major difficulties and losses, captured with minimal yet evocative description.

I had my challenge.  The old:  the page from Uncle Morrey's diary.  The new:  use embroidery to capture this moment in history and in his life.

It appealed to me for many reasons.  Starting with my Stitching Shakespeare project, I've been fascinated by the idea of using embroidery to capture handwriting.  Just seeing someone's penmanship style can bring back memories, and it is an experience that future generations will have fewer opportunities for as most of our written communication goes digital.  I liked the challenge of trying to stitch in a way that preserves the quirks of one person's style.

I also liked the juxtaposition of portraying war, the ultimate masculine activity, through the traditionally feminine folk art of embroidery.  As I talked about in my Craftivism post, the combination of these two elements gets people's attention.  Embroidery is also a way of making this memorable page last longer.  Paper may degrade, but at least cloth and thread will preserve it for just a bit longer.

For the background, I selected an off-white fabric that has little fuzzy bits of different colors.  I think the effect is called "oatmeal."  It reminds me of the wallpaper in our old house . . . anyway, it made me think of low-quality notebook paper.  For the handwriting, I used the leftover bobbin of Weeks Dye Works in Blackberry.  It is a hand-dyed thread that subtly changes between dark blue and dark purple.  I picked this color in particular because it reminds me of the way dark blue or black ink fades overtime, taking on a purple hue.

My dad copied made an enlarged and high-contrast photocopy of the page.  I then used my light pad and a pencil to transfer the image onto the fabric.  It took me about 5 weeks to embroider the image in backstitch.

As I continued to work on it, I also found that it was a way for me to communicate with a relative who is no longer here to tell me his experiences.  I don't know how long it took him to write this one small page, but I have been living with his words every day I've worked on this.  I looked up the details surrounding this air battle as I came to them.  Where was this town?  What was going on during the war at the time?  I also thought about how Morrey experienced this event.  What was going through his mind?  How did it feel to have to write about the death of his fellow airmen?  Did he think about it often after the war?  How did he cope with it?

Line 1:  Mission #22, flown on February 6, 1945
Line 2:  Towns in Germany with Nazi oil refineries
Line 3:  Twenty 250-pound General Purpose bombs used
Line 4:  Anti-aircraft weapons used
Line 5:  Target of mission, railway yards leading to oil refinery

Casualties

I'm treating this as a "proof of concept" for a more complex project in the future.  I could turn this into an illuminated manuscript, providing footnotes to explain each line of the text.  I could print Morrey's pictures onto cloth and attach them to the larger picture, crazy quilt style.  I could make this a giant cornucopia of stitched images to illustrate the horrors of war.

For now though . . . I just didn't want to do anything to detract from my great-uncle's words that manage to say so much with so little.  Thank you for your service, Uncle Morrey, and may all those who served in the armed forces feel appreciated on this Veteran's Day.

[And thanks to my parents, who went through their closets and made all of these copies without me telling them why.]

Craftivism

I'm reading a new book from my local library, Craftivism: The Art and Craft of Activism by Betsy Greer.  The book is a collection of essays by craft-makers who are conscious about sending a message through their work.  They have a variety of goals.  Some use finished objects to raise awareness of specific issues, like the AIDS quilt.  The objects themselves might be used for a greater purpose, like quilts made for returning soldiers.  For some artists, it is about the process.  They upcycle old materials as a statement against consumerism, or encourage people to sew deliberately ugly dolls to help them get over the fear of trying something new.  Some don't have any specific reason other than to bring joy to others, like activists who crochet toys and leave them in a secret spot in a city for anybody to take.  Wouldn't you have a happier day if you randomly found an arugumi cupcake at your bus stop?

The projects are sometimes beautiful, sometimes whimsical.  Some made me ask what my avant-garde theatre professor called, "the Krusty question."  (After watching a Soviet knockoff of the cartoon duo Itchy & Scratchy, Krusty the Clown exclaims, "What the hell was that?!?"  We were only allowed to ask that question once per semester).  One project made me gasp out loud, Noelle Mason's cross-stitch art Nothing Much Happened Today (for Eric and Dylan).

The essay by Mr. X Stitch describes some feelings I have about needlework that I haven't been able to articulate myself.  When someone uses embroidery or knitting for activism, it makes people take notice.  People see the item and instinctively know that it took the artist a long time to create her message.  They feel the conflict between a historically female craft, which usually invokes warm feelings, and the strident arguments that the craft is conveying.

This book is appropriate to read at this time of year, when my city teams up with my local craft store for the Treehugger Project.  Support comes from the Community Gallery program, which aims to turn the downtown district into an art gallery and public forum for ideas.  Over 120 knitters decorated 130 trees with knitted pieces.  I haven't participated yet due to an overflowing craft queue, but many of my local friends take part and I love the project.  I'm fascinated by the way knitters take the same yarn and go in all sorts of directions with the design--cables, lace, fair isle, intarsia.  It makes the downtown more cheerful, and I think it is a nice way of creating seasonal decorations that say "winter" without saying "Christmas."

And yet, as surely as winter means eggnog lattes and 4:30pm sunsets, in my town it also means people complaining about the tree huggers.  They write editorials about how they are a "waste of time and materials" and that the knitters should concentrate on knitting "useful" things like sweaters for the poor.  It doesn't matter if knitters make items for other people, including charity, during the entire rest of the year.  After all, it is cold right now!  By a strange coincidence, most of the people making the loudest complaints aren't actually knitters themselves.

No crafter should ever have to apologize for making what she chooses to make, or have to justify her reasons for doing so.  She can make things for anyone she wants, including herself.  She can make useful items, or strictly art pieces.  She is the one with the skills, time, and materials, so she decides how she wants to use them.  If you disagree . . . there are plenty of craft tutorials on YouTube and books at the library.  Take up a craft and start your own conversation!

Supply Diet Update--Agony!

With 10 days to go in October, I am holding strong with my craft supply diet.  I have to admit that things were starting to get dicey last week, when the Frosted Pumpkin Stitchery started pre-sales for its new Christmas pattern subscription.  (Obviously, I have no reason to hang these in my house, but they are so fun to stitch that I am willing to make them as gifts for friends.)  But then, something miraculous happened.  As a prize for encouraging people to submit their Frosted Pumpkin projects to their state fairs, the FP ladies are giving me the new Christmas pattern for free!  Now I just have to ignore the urge to buy the fabric and threads . . .

I've been getting more projects done.  Here is the latest Once Upon a Time Sampler square, Cinderella with her pumpkin carriage for October.

It's been fun to work on Once Upon a Time while some friends of ours were in a local production of Into the Woods.  That is the Stephen Sondheim musical about fairy tales, and what happens AFTER "happily ever after."  The wife was Little Red Riding Hood, so I hope there is a square for that in the two remaining months.  The husband was Rapunzel's Prince, and he sang my favorite song in the musical.    "Agony!  Much more painful than yours . . ."

Now that I think about it, this song is describing how I'm feeling about my supply diet.

Agony!

Beyond the power of speech,

When the one thing you want

Is the only thing out of your reach.

Torah Stitch by Stitch

In Judaism, it is a mitzvah for a Jew to either write a Torah or have a Torah written for him.  Physically writing an entire Torah is a task done by trained scribes with feather quills.  Most Jews fulfill the mitzvah by donating money to a Torah writing project, such as one to create a new scroll for their synagogue.  One artist, however, has started an innovative project to simultaneously update the task to the 21st Century while also using the ancient art of embroidery.

Torah Stitch by Stitch was started by Toronto-based artist Temma Gentles.  Her goal is to get volunteers from around the world, Jewish and non-Jewish, to cross-stitch every word of the Torah.  When you sign up, they mail you a kit with thread, needles, aida cloth, and a pattern of four verses.  You then have six months to send back your completed verses.  The completed projects will be displayed in an artistic installation.  The idea is to both find a new way to fulfill the aforementioned mitzvah, as well as a way of putting a female twist on the male-dominated scribe tradition.

Here's a kit that I got back in August.

This verse is the following:
"and the two kidneys, and the fat that is upon them, which is by the loins, and the lobe above the liver, which he shall take away by the kidneys. And the priest shall make them smoke upon the altar; it is the food of the offering made by fire, for a sweet savour; all the fat is the Lord's. It shall be a perpetual statute throughout your generations in all your dwellings, that ye shall eat neither fat nor blood. And the Lord spoke unto Moses, saying:" (Leviticus 3:15-4:1)

Ah yes, a very inspiring section.  Or not.  I like how it ends on an incomplete sentence.

For more information on this project, visit Torah Stitch by Stitch.

I'm Going on a Diet

Last week, I ended my post with the announcement that I would be taking a "supply diet."  I plan on it being for the month of October, but I might extend it or bring it back depending on how it works out.  For me this means no buying new supplies for crafting, which include:

• Thread and yarn
• Patterns
• Books

I am doing this in order conserve several resources.

1.  Money--I got a bump in my hours at work.  Basically, it is enough to go from extremely part time to just regular part time.  Since then, I notice I've fallen into the mental trap of buying things more often on the grounds that "I can afford it."  That won't be true for long if I fail to set limits for myself!  I also have a tendency to justify purchases based on my mood.  If something good happens, I would reward myself with craft supplies.  If something bad happens . . . . I console myself with craft supplies.  I didn't think much of this until a woman at my synagogue gave a presentation on shopping addiction and how the retail industry supports this line of thinking.  (She began her presentation with a photo she took of a Hallmark card in a store that said, "It's not a shopping spree--its 'retail therapy.'")  I want to stop myself from falling into that pattern. 

2.  Space--I live in a 2-bedroom apartment, and one of those bedrooms is being used as a computer/storage room.  Guess what percentage of that room is taken up with my craft supplies . . .

3.  Time--Because of spending #1 and #2 on crafting supplies, I feel pressure to devote more time to crafting in order to justify my purchases and relieve some of the crowding in my craft corner.  Crafting is a relaxing way to spend time, but not if it is tinged with guilt or pressure to finish things by a self-imposed deadline.
     I've also realized that devoting too much time to a project can take away time from other important things--like TV.  This might sound odd, but TV has always been a passion of mine.  I discuss it online, show TV episodes to groups to discuss different topics, and I've even presented papers about TV at academic conferences.  When I started crafting while watching TV, I felt superior somehow because TV watching was no longer "idle time."  My progress on projects improved, but my enjoyment of TV did not because I was distracted from what I was supposedly watching.  I obviously don't want to swing wildly to the other end and do nothing but watch TV.  However, I have set a daily habit on HabitRPG to make sure I watch one TV episode or movie a day without simultaneously crafting or browsing the Internet.  It is not idle time if I am focused on a good story, recharging my batteries, and sharing time with my husband.

Can I last the month?  After 7 days, I am still going strong.  Granted, 25 hours of that was devoted to a holiday where spending money is forbidden, but I think I am off to a good start.

***
The last few entries I have done have been pretty heavy, so here is a long-overdue project update!

I finished the last part of Mysterious Halloween Town.

What do you think?  Is this a future State Fair entry?

I also completed Part 1 of Frosted Pumpkin Stitchery's Autumn Harvest Festival.

I liked the cursive writing combined with variegated thread.  I tried to make the stitches in the order that I would have used to write out the letters by hand, so the color changes would flow in the same way.  I am also trying out this project using the English method of cross-stitching.  That involves making each X one by one instead of completing one set of legs (///////) followed by the other set (\\\\\\\).  I can't decide if it has made a big difference.

There was also the September square for Once Upon a Time--Rapunzel.

Other updates:

• The Frosted Pumpkin Stitchery ladies decided to give me and another woman a prize for entering our projects in state fairs and encouraging others to do so.  I'll find out what it is this month . . .
• &Stitches e-zine is holding a contest, Old Stitches New Tricks.  The goal is to take something old (vintage pattern, materials, historical stitching technique), and find a way to update it to a new purpose.  I've started a project that I've been wanting to do for a while and would be perfect for it.  Hopefully I can get it done by the November 17 deadline.  It's not complicated, but it has a lot of personal meaning for me.

Too Much of a Good Thing

Sorry for the long absence.  Part of the reason was because of a bunch of doctors appointments.  A few weeks ago, I had a medical procedure and was under doctor's orders to spend 24 hours recovering at home.  No work, no responsibilities, nothing.  The post-care instructions warned that I shouldn't even "make important decisions or sign anything."  Naturally, I was overjoyed that I had 24 hours in which nothing could separate me from knitting and embroidery except some drowsiness in the beginning.  The next day, I spent several hours crafting to my heart's content.  I made so much progress on my "in-between" project, which I have been working on in between releases of the Once Upon a Time squares and Mysterious Halloween Town clues.  I ended the day happy that I made so much progress.

The day after, I got on the bus to work and brought my knitting bag.  I've been dabbling with knitting on the bus so that I have more time at home to embroider.  I took out the scarf I am making for the public library's craft bazaar and started knitting a row.

OH CRAP.

Pain shot through my back, neck, and upper arm.  I was having a muscle spasm again, one that made it painful for me to ride the bus.  I ended up not getting any work done that day because the pain was so debilitating.  The pain lasted for several days.  So much for progress.

It was entirely my fault.  That's what happens when I sit and craft for long periods of time without breaks to stretch or stand.  I haven't found a way to fix the ergonomics of how I sit to avoid it, but I should still remember to take a break about every 20 minutes.

During this time, I had to fight the urge to pick up a project.  My annoyance and anger at not being able to do my hobbies was almost as bad as the muscle pain itself.  I just want to knit a scarf--is that too much to ask?  This was one of those times when I feel like working on craft projects crossed over from pleasant hobby to obsession.  I threw myself into it so thoroughly that it actually resulted in bad physical consequences (other than the occasional pricked finger.)

I had an epiphany related to this over the summer.  While I have a lot to be thankful for, there are also areas of my life that are disappointing.  My progress has stalled.  There are times when I put in so much work, only to receive no positive results.

When I learned embroidery, it felt like a beacon of hope in the midst of all that disappointment.  I realized that it is the only area of my life where I have complete control.  I decide the materials that go into it, and what the final outcome will be.  The progression of my skills is obvious, and gives me pride in my improvement.  When I complete a project, I feel a sense of satisfaction that is not reliant on having other people approve my work.  And yet, people love my work!  Through this new interest, I have tapped into a wonderful community of friends that accept me as I am while encouraging me to set new goals.

With so many positives, it is easy to see why I have thrown myself into crafting--why I now consider it to be a part of my identity instead of one hobby among many.  And yet, I also realize that there can be too much of a good thing.  During a frustrating meeting, it's easy for my mind to wander into "I'd rather be stitching" territory, but I can't give in to the urge to withdraw to my craft corner.

I can embroider to relax after a busy day, but not to retreat from a challenging day.
I can embroider for enjoyment, but not to avoid trying new endeavors--even if those endeavors end up not turning out the way I want.
I can embroider to sooth my anxiety, but not to distract myself when I genuinely need to see a therapist.

I need to maintain a sense of balance.  One area that I can start work on is in my crafting supplies.  I realized that part of the reason I feel so much pressure to craft long hours is because I have amassed a large number of patterns.  I felt guilty about the number of patterns I have in my "craft queue" and thought that I needed to work as much as I could in order to get through them all.

Next week, I will talk about my plan to eliminate this source of pressure--by going on a "supply diet."