A White Ribbon Vanquished

I have been to the mountain and I have been redeemed.

Really.  The mountains of New Hampshire to be concise.  This past weekend was my introduction to paste paper and box making.  Serious stuff, not at all a "krafty with a K" kind of thing.  I was not only lucky enough to have Polly Allen as an instructor, but also as hostess - I drove up with her sister and we stayed in her stunningly beautiful mountain side home. It was a simple matter of walking down the hall from my beautiful guest room to the most thoroughly tricked-up,  decked-out studio I'd ever seen in my life.  The class was challenging, overwhelming, scary and exhilarating - all at the same time.

Day one was spent learning the fundamentals and techniques used in making paste paper.  By the end of the day I had three large sheets of my very own creation.  The class ended at 4PM  but if left to my own devices I would have been neck-deep in paint until about 3AM.  We were presented with a seemingly endless supply of inks, stamps, custom rollers, altered squeegees, combs and other tools to use to swirl the paint around and make all kinds of different designs.  The sponge paintbrush (AKA the "do-over" brush) would immediately smooth out and erase any bad decisions and enable endless second chances.  The release from the  "you are stuck with this"  law enabled me to try things I never would have attempted (without good drugs).  While that layer of paint dried you grabbed an earlier sheet and put the next layer on top of that - and the process continued.

Day two was box making day.  After varnishing our chosen paper, we went on to cut out different sized areas to adhere to a (mercifully) pre-cut series of bookboard templates. The process was lengthy but let me sum it up in a few words:  WE USED A SCALPEL.  Not a fakie one, or a less lethal Exacto knife, but a real thow-it-down, hand- me-the -number- 3- scalpel- yes -Dr. -Kildaire- scalpel.  It was kind of like cutting up a very intricate snowflake and unfolding it to see what you made - but on steroids.  I look at my finished box and I can't believe I made it - any of it.  The paper, the box, the whole enchilada.  Choosing the button combination for the lid was another experience unto itself.  Among her many other talents Polly is a button whisperer.  She came up with a combo that said, "oh SNAP!" and I just nodded in wordless assent.  Here is my finished creation:

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Tres fabu, huh.  Those  little flecks of gold metallic paint really pop!   (Oh - that little beauty in the middle was a celebratory pear martini at the Simon Pearce restaurant in Quechee, Vermont. MMmmmmmmmmm.)

So the grade school 4H project has been permanently vanquished from my hall of shame.  Back then, contact paper was the new Jerusalem - the kewelest thing ever and no surface in the home was safe from being permanently altered by a sheet of  faux wood grain vinyl adhesive crap.  I survived that to experience the most creative thing I've ever done in my life.  IT ROCKED.

Classes are out there.  Start by contacting your area league of craftsmen - if you live in New England, the League of New Hampshire Craftsmen is a great place to start.  This can be applied to anything you are interested in, but it is best if you do something totally outside your comfort zone.  I can't tell you what this has done for me, both  creatively and spiritually. My approach to fabric and quilting has also been changed for the better.  I urge you to try something way out of your usual scope and jump-start your creative spirit and soul.

EDIT:  I'm not sure why Wordpress is sticking my title wordle in the gallery with the pictures of the box.  I'm not going to worry about it.  I've learned to let go and let the universe take you places!

Workshop Phobic

Well, tomorrow is the big day.

I'm leaving for a weekend workshop in New Hampshire where I am going to attempt something I have never done before.  I have never participated in any kind of "artsy" workshop.  I took a one day class in calligraphy about 15 years ago, and that was it.  Whassup with that, you ask?  Plenty.

I had the misfortune of being one year younger than my sister who actually did have some artistic talent.  I marched through junior high and high school art classes one year behind the "talented sister."   Every year  I was greeted with the same thing:  "Oh, are you Pat's sister?  Are you as talented as she is?"  And every year the teacher(s) found out the answer was "NO,"  not even close.  It's hard to shake that off.  (If you are reading this, Pat - I don't hold you responsible, but would it kill you to dust off that Bernina and get back to creating?)

At the tender age of 16 I spent a year in a walking body cast.  Consequently I am terribly self conscious and building self-esteem was not a big part of my parent's agenda.  I got through life by staying under the radar and keeping the peace.  Can you tell I am a middle child?  Once, in a grade school 4H project, I had to cover a box with contact paper.  I would have had an easier time constructing a cold fusion machine.  My mother, completely exasperated, gave up on me and let me finish the damn thing myself.  It looked horrible.  To compound my shame, I got a white ribbon on it and it was displayed at the county fair for all  to see.  There is no shame like the shame of a 4H white ribbon.  It kneecapped me.

So what is the workshop?  We are going to paint on paper, cover, then embellish, a box.  I kid you not.  I can't believe I am doing this.  So what has changed?  Not much,  other than there is a little voice inside me now that says, "why the hell not?"  I have mercifully matured to the age where I don't really care what other people think.  I  really don't need the  affirmation of strangers.  I may make a total mess of this project but it is something I want to try.  I'm happy to have reached this point in my life.  If I'd had this awareness in my 20's I'd be running Apple by now.

Of course it helps that I'm taking this with a friend who, like myself, shoots from the hip and appreciates strong adult beverages.  We're staying at her sister's house so it should be a remarkably comfortable and relaxing get-away.  What's not to love?  I will even promise to post a picture of the result, even if it does belong in my "white ribbon" gallery.  Life is short.  Let's all get out of our comfort zone and see what happens.