Modification

What is modification?

Well, for me it is several things:

1. Modification can be "modifying" something to take something that is "almost" right into something "perfect" for whatever you are going to use it for.

2. It can also be a form of recycling...or as the fashion is to call it these days "up-cycling"...which I guess makes it seem like the original object wasn't something you were going to toss in the trash moments before you modified it into something you are now going to use.

3. Or it can be where you take something that you like...and still want...but it has been broken/abused and needs some help if it is to continue to function in a way that is optimal.

As you can see...all three of these things are closely related. They are all forms of recycling really. 

What does Modification have to do with art you ask?

I think it takes a creative person to see past what something IS to see what it could be. In addition...sometimes there is an awful lot of creative work necessary for this transformation to take place.

Examples of things that I have done with modification.

Taking something that is perfectly fine...and modifying it so that it matches what you imagine it could be. I was playing a game (Dungeons and Dragons...it can be much fun if you play with friends who forgive you horrid math skills) and I needed a game piece that reflected a winged tiger...a mystical winged tiger. Obviously, this was a difficult thing to find. However, it was an easy thing to make! 

  I just took an old toy from my childhood (I think it went to a zoo set)

 painted it with a lovely mystical shade of fingernail polish and let dry

and attached "wings" to it (created out of the red cellophane from a box of chocolates I had recently received for Valentines Day).



 And TaDa!!! Perfect game piece.




I think it turned out rather well.  

Happy Crafting! Seckmea.

The Machine

I have finally broken down and bought a sewing machine to quilt with!

Why? Because I decided two years ago to learn quilting. I asked my Great Aunt Leona (whom I simply call Aunt Lee) to teach me. She was happy to and she taught me how to hand quilt. It was fascinating to listen to her tell me about her early childhood, tips and tricks she learned throughout the years, and her utter dislike of the iron. I thoroughly enjoy hand quilting...however, I then made the mistake of deciding to make a quilt for each of my nieces and nephews. Since my family tends to breed like rabbits...I have committed myself to a LOT of quilts. And of course, I feel like I should get them to them in a timely manner...you know, before they head off to college or something. But, as fun as I find hand quilting...it is not a quick process for me. And so, I realized for the sake of timely gift making I was going to have to take advantage of the technology available to me...aka...the Machine...

This is a major deal for me since I have been rather afraid of sewing machines since I was seven and somehow managed to sew through my left pointer finger while constructing a pillow. I have since avoided them like the plague. And when sewing machines would become a topic of conversation, as it tends to do amongst those who sew, I would pretty much just tune out anything machine related and just focus on my friends finished project.

As a result, I am utterly clueless about sewing machines...other than they can be pretty expensive and the technology has made leaps and bounds since I was seven.

This cluelessness led to me being at a complete loss about what type of machine I needed. I knew what I wanted it to do...just not which machine would be able to do that. Of course I asked my friends what type of machine they had and if they thought it could quilt. Since most of my friends who use sewing machines use them for garment making they were at a loss to whether their machines could perform in that manner. I then tried to do online research...but all of the information seemed either to be advertising hype that was probably more than half false or conflicted wildly---again, I was stumped. I didn't want to spend a bunch of money on something that wouldn't do what I needed it too...

And so, I found myself in the fabric store...which also conveniently sells things like sewing machines. I was asking questions...and they were asking me what it was I wanted the machine to do...It soon became clear there was a machine that could do all I wanted it to...and more. And best of all--it was on sale! (I love sales on products I already plan to buy!) Best of all, however, is the fact that they had free classes on how to use my new machine...I was sold.

And so, machine in hand and a class scheduled I trotted off home to make room for my new crafting tool!

This proved to be less than easy. Firstly, because my beloved cat Simon prefers my desk as a napping spot. He begrudgingly give it to me when book-making, but I am convinced he only does so that he may sneak into the glue when I am distracted. Having a large and immovable (yes, the cow tried to push the new machine onto the floor!) object blocking his favorite sleeping haunt has been less than ideal for him. And secondly because of the need to rehome the knickknacks that cluttered my work surface. I like looking at them, so, the desk was a perfect spot for them (when Simon wasn't shoving them off). So, a day was spent on rearranging. And then a thought...if my sewing machine is now in pride of place on the desk...should I move my bookmaking supplies out of the desk drawers and back into the closet of stash? But, of course there is the fact that I could just temporarily move the sewing machine down to make books, and then move it back once the surface was cleaned off...but would I want to move the sewing machine...or would I just find it easier to make my books at the kitchen table (which is where I end up making large multi-step books anyways...decisions, decisions...and surprise! I have yet to decide about the desk drawers. However, everything is now ready to begin learning how my new machine works.

In other news, I have gotten a new betta fish...I have named him Zoltan (well, my four year old nephew named him, but I agreed that the name was perfect!) And because I think he is very beautiful I am giving you a picture of him as well!

Happy Crafting! Seckmea.

Pressure

Outside Pressure

Do you ever feel pressured? This has often been an issue for me.

Partly, it was because I would not (or could not) consider myself an artist and therefore the adulation from friends and family was both surprising and scary. What if they didn't like what I created next? What if I no longer wanted to make that...or something like that...thing that they adored?

And then there was the issue of me considering what I did to be a mere hobby and many others feeling that I could, and should, profit from the sale of my creations. Only it wasn't a mere hobby, not really. Because in each thing I created I put a small part of myself. A piece of my heart, a part of my soul, a spark of my creativity...whatever you want to call it...It was there for me to see. To this day I can look at something that I have made and be transported back to the specific ME that created it. This is not to say that I have changed mind you. But, I can look at each piece and tell you what I was feeling emotionally, what I was thinking mentally, and what else was going on in my life. When you factor in that many of my most spectacular creations (at least in my opinion) are "long term projects" that have taken years to gather the skills, materials, and desire to create that one item...well, let us just say that in some cases the thought of selling them has less appeal than selling my cat Simon (and I would never sell him!).

A good example of this "long term project" is the Dream Catcher I made in 2011. I was on my way home from college, I had three essays to write...one of which was on a book that I despised...and it was storming. the ground was mush...i sunk almost to my ankles and was cursing myself for not wearing something more waterproofed than my sneakers. It was raining so hard my coat, which WAS waterproof was soaked through and there was not an inch of me that wasn't wet. And yet, I wasn't unhappy because there was WIND. And not just any wind...but a rushing forceful wind. A wind that was bowing the trees around me nearly to the ground and had the ability to push my 300+ pound frame several inches in the direction it was going. I had to lean into it and fight every step in the direction I wanted to go. It was glorious! I felt alive. The world felt as if it was about to be reborn or at least scrubbed clean within an inch of its life! And as I was smiling and trying to keep my sodden hair out of my face the cedar tree I was passing let loose with several branches. They flew like spears in all directions and one made a direct impact on my shoulder. In surprise I made a grab at it as it slid against my sleeve. I was successful. I stood there, trying not to be blown over, and wondering what the heck I was doing holding a cedar branch half my height. It then occurred to me that it would make a lovely Dream Catcher, and so...I began to clean it up a bit and work it into a circle. The pieces that I "cleaned" off of it left my hands as if pulled away by a vacuum and soon I had a small circle of cedar. I quickly slipped it over my wrist so I wouldn't lose it and continued to head to my bus.
 
I sat in a messy puddle the entire way home...everything from my coat to my shoes "squished" at my every movement so I attempted to stay as still as possible...while the puddle got even larger. Once home I took my cedar bracelet off, set it aside, got dry and wrote my essays. I itched to create a dream catcher out of my lovely branch...but...after writing an essay on a book I hated I was in a bad mood...and when I learned (in Girl Scouts at the age of 12) to make Dream Catchers my teacher had told me it was always best to create them when you were in a good mood as they were supposed to catch bad dreams...and if you were having bad thoughts when you made it then it wouldn't be strong enough to hold the bad dreams at bay. I don't know if this is true, but why take the chance? And so, I went to bed. The next day dawned bright and fresh. Dew covered everything and there wasn't a cloud in the sky...it was a lovely, cool but sunny day. And I felt light and happy after I had turned in my essays. So, when I got home I started to pull together all the supplies I would need for a dream catcher. I dug through boxes to find feathers, wire, beads, thread....and then I saw it...I had tried to learn tatting a while back...but hadn't got the hang of it and broke my lovely tatting shuttle to boot...it was made of shell (really, it was a decorative piece and shouldn't have been used by a newbie...maybe not used at all) and I knew I had to use it...so I chose an overdyed cotton thread to wrap my dream catcher...white feathers...I went with pale blue beads...

Half of my broken tatting shuttle

I decided that though I enjoy going over the top I would challenge myself to do a more streamlined version of a dream catcher...one that wasn't covered in beads, but was elegantly spare...just enough sparkle to add intrigue without looking like it had been glitter-bombed by the glass fairy. That way I could better highlight the shell I was going to include on it...if I could find a way to attach said shell. But after I had gathered everything I realized that there was something missing. Sadly, a second run through my Stash only left me with the knowledge that whatever I was missing to create this piece I did NOT own it. And so, I put everything on my desk and stared at it...asking myself what else such a great collection of stuff could possibly need? A month passed and I decided the problem is that I was making it for myself...and therefore I wanted to include some garnets...as they are my birthstone and I LOVE them. I found some delicate garnet beads that were faceted in my embroidery stuff...and next to them was a few faceted moonstones...I was delighted...obviously, I should include moonstones in my dream catcher! Perfection! Now I had all the pieces. :].

Garnet and Moonstone Beads

 Only...I didn't. There was still something missing. I told myself to just get moving...start already and I would figure it out as I went...and sometimes that is just what I do. But this time I couldn't. And so, back to the desk...only in a bag this time because Simon had decided that he really needed to eat my feathers (he adores eating feathers...weirdo). And yet another month passed...indeed it was nearly six weeks. Still no idea what I was missing.
And then, while at work, I noticed my coworker Stephanie's earrings. I of course complimented her...I just love earrings...and hers were very unusual! They dangled nicely, and they appeared to be some type of carving, very detailed but unobtrusive...I found myself wanting to get closer to see exactly what they were. A nice pale whitish color. I assumed they were a bone carved bead of some kind. She of course noted my interest...it would have been hard to miss! She then told me that she had made them herself...and that they were not a bone carving as I had assumed, but in fact the "ear bones" of a fish she had caught bow-fishing. Now, not really being into sports, and having only fished once (fly fishing...I caught a lovely Rainbow Trout...that I put in my pocket for about 6 hours before attempting to drop him in the fish tank at home...at 5 I didn't realize he wasn't going to pop back to life...or that he would not have survived a salt water tank) I had no idea what this "bow-fishing" was...and though I love to eat fish I had not heard of any fish with "ear bones." Intrigued I asked more questions about both. It was fascinating to learn about...and upon closer inspection of said ear bones I knew that they were what I had been missing for my dream catcher. I don't know why I love how they look so much...but I do.

The Ear Bone of a Fish

 Luckily, she happened to be going bow-fishing in the next few weeks and she said she would save some ear bones for me! She was so awesomely nice! And so...right after finals week I had my ear bones, feathers, shell, moonstone, garnets, copper, crystal beads, over-dyed thread, and my cedar ring along with the time and mood (happiness, accomplishment, rested, peaceful) in which to create my new dream catcher!

My Dream Catcher

I think it turned out rather well! And best of all, it never fails to make me smile! How could I even contemplate selling such a treasure? And yet, some of my family would have me take it down, put a price tag on it, and sell it. And why? Because apparently, to them, art isn't worth anything unless you can sell it. It is a revenue opportunity. And on some levels I can agree with that. I have spent much of my life honing skills that do seem rather useless when you compare the amount of time and money I spend on them to the amount of money I receive for them (I rarely sell anything so, as you can imagine, the amount of money is not really worth mentioning). And of course I think art should be shared! (what would the world be without museums?) And who wouldn't want to get paid for the time, effort, and materials that went into a piece of art work? But, can anyone pay for the joy I get out of having the ear bones of fish hanging in my room? (which, now that I read that line sounds soooo creepy--truly, I am not a creep) Can they pay for the years it took me to gather and store the supplies I used to create it? I had that broken tatting shuttle for 3 years! I had those beads for 5 years! In point of fact...the newest thing on that dream catcher, minus the ear bones, was the cedar branch...And how do you pay for such a serendipitous branch arrival? Of course, to be fair...they also want me to sell things that I plan on taking apart and making into something else (I call this cannibalizing...which also makes me sound like a serial killer...how did I not realize this before?!)....so I shouldn't make it out like they are asking me to sell only the "priceless gems" of my collected works.

In their defense, I know that many of my family members who pressure me to sell my stuff do so not because they look at art as a revenue opportunity, but rather because they really think it is beautiful and they think that I deserve to be praised for it. They see how I slave over the pieces, how much money and time I put into them, and then...they watch in horror as I say "yeah, it is okay, but not that great" and stuff it into a box, cut it up and makes something else, or give it away without a thought. I know that they think if I sell it I will realize how valuable it is...and therefore I will know my own worth. I sometimes wonder if they think I have no self esteem...but then, maybe they are correct? What else would make me continue to poopoo my creativity? Of course...now I admit that I am an artist, and accept that I am very creative and that what I create has inherent value...and I still don't want to sell it...perhaps I am just a pack-rat? An Art Hoarder? (I had to put caps on all of those.) I think the real reason I am reluctant to go down the "sell-my-stuff" route however is that I am essentially lazy. I LIKE that I can create what I want when I want and that I can spend nearly 3 months waiting to create a dream catcher because I have some vague sense of "missing something as yet unknown." If I sold pieces I would have to then create pieces...I would feel the need to produce and not only that...but do so "in a timely manner" after all...even the artists who show their work in gallery's and authors who write books have deadlines...Shoot...I don't even like self imposed deadlines. (That is one thing I despised about going to school...I had to produce things on a timeline that wasn't my own!) And worse...what if there were 70 people who wanted the same item...and I got bored after making 5...I would feel bad for the 65 people but I probably still wouldn't be able to convince myself to make more...

Of course, there is also the pressure to NOT be an artist...I have a sister who has literally spent the last 10 years telling me that I will never find a boyfriend, much less a husband, if I don't quit doing "old lady" activities (knitting and embroidery are her pet peeves for that) or "hippie" stuff (which apparently covers the rest of the stuff I do...) Oh, and I have to give up my cat too. Needless to say, this hasn't really gone over well with me. And, though I know it is petty, I find myself going out of my way to work on artistic endeavors whenever she is around. :]. It once took me a month to do a small embroidery piece...because the ONLY time I worked on it was when she was visiting! Not that she has ever caught on that I break out the knitting half because I love it and half because I know the sight of me working on it pisses her off. My philosophy is...love me and love my cat...as well as my art. It is a pretty good deal after all...my man will have dozens of scarves, warm quilts, pretty pictures, all the necklaces he can stand, and a fuzzy love-kin once he hooks up with me :]

And then...the worst type of pressure...the pressure to be an artist JUST like someone else in your circle who is artistic. (Thankfully this is not so common an issue for me!) In my case, this really only happens with family. Mainly with crochet to be honest. My aunts, my grandma, my great grandma, and my great great grandma all were crochet queens. My mom as well was very good at it...but she wasn't as competitive. Down in Kentucky there is an award for every year a woman of my family in the last four generations has entered a crochet piece in the county fair. It might even be five generations as I believe several of my female cousins down in KY have continued the tradition. I however, was not blessed with innate crochet skills...in fact, I am nearly useless with a crochet hook. A fact that my mother has grown used to (after trying to teach me from the age of 5 to the age of 14). However, the rest of her family has not accepted it with as much grace. I know three crochet stitches...and I fought hard to learn them. I usually break out said skills when knitting...to bind-off. But, my aunts won't give up...27 years after being gifted my grandmothers afghan hook and 18 years after admitting to one and all that crochet wasn't my thing, I can still expect to find crochet hooks and patterns to emerge from the boxes sent by my female relatives in Kentucky. It is as if they think my owning over a hundred hooks will suddenly inspire my hands to finally succeed where diligent practice failed! Perhaps it isn't their fault...after all, in most things involving string I am a goddess of skill and creativity! Still, every Christmas when I open their gifts and see those supplies I can feel the pressure--their desire to have yet another crocheting clone in the fold. Luckily, there are so many uses for a good crochet hook...dying hair (so useful for getting streaks...you just use the crochet hook to pull your hair through a plastic cap! so much better than the plastic hooks they put in those kits!), cleaning hair from drains (though truly the easiest and least gross way to do that is to use a mixture of 1 cup salt, 1/2 cup backing soda...mix...pour dry into drain...and then pour a pot of boiling water down the drain...works like Magic!), gifts for coworkers, and gifts for any friends who show an interest in crochet in the slightest. Of course, my ultimate goal isn't to get rid of the crochet hooks...but help them find their way into the hands of someone who will love and adore them as much as my aunts. This has led to many a gift to an acquaintances' 7 or 8 year old child (boy or girl) if said acquaintance thinks their child might be even remotely interested in crochet.

However, my all time favorite way that I off-loaded crochet hooks has to be when my dear friend Rosey worked in the civil service branch of the military and was serving in Morocco. She told me how these Moroccan tribes women loved to do embroidery, knitting, crochet and many other hand work crafts...and how sad it made her seeing the nearly nonexistent supplies and tools at their disposal. A fire was lit! I could not allow these women to suffer in a state of deprivation! Talk about torture...the desire to create and no access to the supplies in which to do so! I quickly started to think about what was most needed when one created art...after a few days I had slimmed my list down to this: Knitting--needles, yarn, possibly patterns. Crochet--hooks, thread, possibly patterns. And Embroidery--needles, needle-book, thread, good scissors, a few needle threaders for those without skill or eyesight to thread needles themselves, and fabric...i decided that they would have to source their own fabric (too expensive for me to ship) and then i decided i would create some embroidery kits...with needle-books...i like making them and i had some lovely blue wool felt that would work up rather nicely. I divided the felt up evenly and was able to create 16 needle-books which i filled with 20 sharps of a variety of different sizes. then i decided that I should have a variety of colored thread to go in...and picked my 12 favorite colors, a white and a black to go into the kits...i then got 16 lion-tailed Gingher embroidery scissors (they were on sale) to put in the kits, 16 emery strawberries (to make the needles last), 16 pincushions...how could I resist!--and a bunch of needle-threaders...(which I had gotten for free the last time I had been to the craft store...I didn't want to be rude so I took them...but I rarely use them myself). I zip-locked each kit up and then thought...they also like to knit and crochet...I had tons of crochet supplies that I hadn't used in over a decade...I quickly ransacked my closet-o-stash and dug out all my knitting and crochet stuff. I carefully went through it (I wanted to make sure it was all still in good condition before I sent it). I decided to keep my grandmothers afghan hook as it had sentimental value to me...and I decided to keep my drain cleaning hook (it was bent a bit) and my hair dye hook and a couple of other hooks that proved useful for binding off when knitting. The rest went into a box. I paired all my knitting needles up, chose my favorites, and the rest went into the box. I looked through my patterns...many of the crochet patterns were diagrams so I sent those...anything requiring the reader to know English I kept, this meant that most of my knitting patterns stayed. I had a couple of books that were fun and diagram based...or had step by step pictures...those I sent. I had lots of crochet thread and yarn for knitting in a ton of colors and weights. I sent all of that. In the end I had four big boxes of supplies bought specifically for the women and other supplies gleaned from my stash. I mailed it to my friend at the embassy and called to alert her that I was sending her craft supplies for the women that she had met.

A month later a package arrived for me from Rosey, since she was always sending me interesting things from her travels it did not occur to me that this package would be different. However, when I opened it I found a letter from my friend explaining that the village women she gave the supplies to were so touched by my gift that they had sent me a hand made basket created from reclaimed wire. My friend had thoughtfully included pictures of the women smiling happily with their new kits and supplies in their laps! I was surprised and touched that they had sent me a gift! And I was so very happy that they loved what I had sent them! In one picture a little old woman was already using the crochet supplies to create something! I think that it is one of the best things I have ever done. In addition...that moment was made possible because I had nearly 20 years of crochet supply gifts at my disposal. If I had tried to buy that many supplies and send them it would have been far more expensive than I could have afforded...but because of my mothers' family pressuring me for decades to become a crochet master I was able to spread the joy of crocheting to a village in Morocco! How great is that?! The realization that I could not have given those women as much happiness if I had not been pressured by my family has given me a different perspective on the experience. Yes, I did find it highly annoying as a kid that I was, once again, the recipient of an ill-suited gift...and I felt frustrated with myself for not being skilled at it, and angry that they would not accept me for who I was and the skills that I did have (I would have been overjoyed to receive more knitting supplies for instance, but they only sent crochet stuff). Now, however, when I get more crochet hooks I realize they are trying to share what they love with me and that I, though I do not love crochet (well, I do LOVE the product created...I just don't like creating it myself) I can still share it with others who will love it. Maybe I won't share it today, or tomorrow, but one day I will and those people will be as happy as my aunts wish I was. So, I can now recognize that many times those around us pressure us because they love us. However, just because that is the case it does not mean that you have to fall into the fold. Be true to yourself and create what you love!

Happy creating!
Seckmea