2003-08-11
Arts and Crafts
I love craft shopping. Except I don�t do crafts. I suck at crafts.
I am too much of a perfectionist to engage in product oriented creative tasks. Give me an easel, a canvas, paints and brushes and I�ll be happy. But if I�m being expected to make something representational, forget it.
Also, I should not be allowed to use sharp tools. Quilting would be a big no-no, because I would be sure to lose several digits attempting to cut fabric into perfect geometric shapes.
And how about this �one-stroke� painting technique? Was this inspired by Scorcese�s continuous movement shot in �Goodfellas�? The one in which you can see the boom during half the fricking take? But I digress...
I am confused by this. It seems to be one step up from paint by numbers. I have watched people work this technique, and really, it takes more than one stroke to make a flower. I don�t do any crafts with deceiving titles. That�s my new rule.
Cake decorating. I tried this. I took a class with my friends. Unfortunately, my frosting was gray and hard. Instead of making the nice shell pattern on the side of my cake or practicing my lattice work, I amused myself by writing swear words on the top of my sweet creation. The instructor refused to give me the certificate of completion.
The last time I practiced any beadwork was when I made friendship pins in fifth grade. We had contests to see who could put the most pins on their Tretorn sneakers. We also made bracelets from fishing tackle and colored beads. Who thought this one up? Hey, you know what would make a really great fashion trend? Dressed up sporting goods!
Stencils? No, thanks. I�m not conforming to SOCIETY�s definition of BEAUTIFUL. Ha! Even crafts can get me all political. Don�t get me started on Wal-Mart, now...
Soap and candle making sounds cool. I like those things. But hey, I�m a Dove soap girl all the way. And it would probably cost me $14.99 to make a candle I could buy at the dollar store. Half price. So I�ll skip these crafts, too.
Needlepoint and cross-stitch. I do love a beautiful needlepoint pillow, but I�d rather someone made one FOR me. I�ve attempted cross stitch, but I always try changing the colors and altering the pattern. I end up with a picture that looks like the graphics from old Atari games.
Wood craft. Nah.
Dolls. I hate dolls. They creep me out. They�re always looking at you with their creepy eyes, figuring ways in their creepy doll heads of coming alive at night and killing you. Sorry, Marie Osmond.
The only dolls I ever loved were the ones my mom made for me with her own hands. I sucked my thumb for years as a child, and I liked to rub soft fabric between my fingers and on my upper lip. I also wore underwear on my head, but that�s another story. My mom thought it might be wise to make me a soft doll to carry around after I approached a stranger in a department store and basically started feeling them up. She cut up my favorite shirts of my dad�s and created Molly. I had two Molly dolls in my life. Molly II came to be after Molly I was worn out from all the feeling. My mom saved them and gave one to me recently. I cried when I saw her again.
There is one form of art I have tried and loved. Pottery. I took a pottery class at the university a few summers ago.
First we had to learn basic slab techniques, which bored the crap out of me. I wanted to get on the wheel.
When we finally learned throwing, I was instantly addicted. It is very satisfying to balance a ball of clay on a spinning disc. If the clay is not balanced properly, the form will be imperfect. Using my hands to create a hollowed form was amazing not because the wet clay felt so good between my fingers, but because I was always surprised at the figure that appeared before my eyes. Every throw would present a new form, a new shape, something unexpected.
I spent every day that summer in jeans that became caked with the remainders of every uncalculated throw. The pottery studio closed and I never pursued my interest in it further.
Today I am checking the yellow pages and finding a pottery studio where I can work uninterrupted. It�s time for something unexpected to take shape.
joeparadox at 11:43 a.m.