The Dammit Doll

Perhaps the real title of this post should be "and then I lost patience." That seems to define so many of my choices lately. Diane Harris, of Stash Bandit Quilting, started it. She posted a picture of her pandemic doll, covered in writing, that she used to help work out some of her frustrations, what we've all felt over the last year. And I thought, what a great idea! After some angst about making a doll of my own, and how that felt like more work than I wanted to do, I remembered that I had blank dolls squirreled away in my fiber closet. (Of course I do, doesn't everyone?)

The problem was that she was flat white and that felt too harsh. I have fabric dyes, but that also seemed like too much work. I have tsukineko inks and pens, so I started with that. My plan was to sneak up on the color, diluting it in water, soaking the doll and getting a lovely peach tone. Well, then I lost patience. The ink wasn't taking. So I dragged out my Derwent Inktense blocks and started shaving them into the water. Now she has a sunburn and freckles.

When I was a little kid I loved making dolls. I always did their eyes last because I didn't want them looking at me while I was poking them. Having matured some since them, the face was the first to be embroidered. I toyed with buttons for the eyes, and then beads.

Diane's doll is quite primitive, covered with words of sadness and frustration. As cathartic as that seemed, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I hope my doll is going to lead me back to my creative self with a little bit of sewing every day.

So, embroidered eyes it is. And of course they are green, because mine are. She's a little lopsided, but then, aren't we all? And there she sat for a few days, nekkid and bald, while I thought about how to do her hair.

After considering yarn, and wool appliqued flat to her head, I ultimately chose to tear strips of fabric. I haven't had my hair cut since right before the shutdowns last year. (I've decided to hold off until March this year to see how long it can really get before I lose my entire mind.) The torn strips were then sewn down to another strip of fabric, which is about an inch wide and about five inches long. There are three rows of strips so my dolly can have a luxurious mane, and give me more choices for styling.

After my last post I've been contacted by several quilt teachers who are also struggling with depression. People who, for all to see, look like they totally have their shit together and haven't a care in the world. Let's find our way back together. 

I challenge anyone who is struggling with their creative mojo to clear a space, even a little one, and do one thing each day. Sew one seam, just sew two random pieces of fabric together, no plan. Make a mark on one page, a letter, a swipe, a fingerprint. Thread a needle, make a knot and make a stitch, any stitch in any piece of fabric that comes to hand. If more happens, that's cool. We fell in love with our art one tiny step at a time. Let's do that again. We can do that again.

When I turned on my machine yesterday, for the first time in many months, this is how it greeted me. Yeah, I know, I programmed that in, but I'd completely forgotten about it. Now I'm thinking it's time to look for my tiara. It has to be here somewhere. You better bet my doll will get one.

Blissfully off-task

It is a true blessing to be able to say that I have very few regrets in my life. Not going to France with French club my senior year in high school is one of them. But not taking art classes in high school, college and beyond has to top the list.

I've always been creative, yes, but I've never felt like an artist. It was decided for me, early on, that my talent was being smart, so I was funneled into math and science classes, with very little consideration given to what I wanted. Shoot, I was just a kid, what did I know? I was good at math and science, who doesn't like being good at something?

There's always been a yearning, though, to be able to translate what I see onto paper with pencil and paint. But like so many, I just want to be good at it now and I'm very frustrated that I'm not. This is where I get to repeat to myself one of the mottoes I fling at my students: Anything worth doing is worth doing badly for as long as it takes. Ouch. No one likes to be quoted back!

I signed up for a terrific class by my buddy Joanne Sharpe. I've been playing along with her on her "Artfully Inspired Life 2017" workshop. It's been tons of fun, and slightly terrifying! We're making a mixed media (yikes) art journal (shiver), using tools and techniques that are solidly outside of my wheelhouse. Just to double down on the challenge, I also signed up for Joanne's Fountain Pen Follies mini workshop. I can highly recommend them!

Joanne's (rightfully so) requested that we not post pictures of the actual lessons, so what I've shown here are my version of the exercises, and proof that I am inherently incapable of actually following instructions, no matter how good my intentions.

In addition to the on line workshops, the Fiber Artisan group I've joined here in Green Bay (lovely folks, second Tuesday of the month at 10 am), is working on playing with paints and other embellishments on fabric.

Since everything I do seems to relate back to applique in some way, my project from last month is a painted background. When I can decide what color the table cloth should be I'll get the rest of it done. Blue seems to have usurped red as my favorite neutral, but I'm pushing back a little on my desire to make everything blue. I'm open to suggestions!

It's taken me quite a while to get used to freedom from deadlines, and the expectations of being a responsible adult and business owner. The time to make mistakes is a glorious luxury that I can finally appreciate. Suddenly I'm doing things badly and having the time of my life!