Monday, June 27, 2011

If I ever catch myself saying I'll just "crank out a couple scarves" again, I should just throw a bunch of silk and wool and yarn right into the garbage.

Amazing, but true, I forget this is a real process with failure always a possibility.  Just because I have made so many scarves, cockiness can derail me at any time.  The first time I try a new design or style is usally the best effort.  I take a lot of time laying everything out.  I test for readiness frequently as I felt and full it.  I don't try and cut corners on the time it takes.  Now, I know that the current results of my recent lack of intention (other than to build inventory) still look fine.  They are salvageable.  But they also had large sections of wool that came off the silk.  The designs weren't fulfilled. They are not what they should have been, could have been had I really set my heart and mind and hands on the act of creation, not cranking out goods.

Lessons learned here?
Set an intention.
Be a beginner with each new piece.
Be present.
Do the work.

Sounds like what I teach in yoga class.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

It's more fun to be the child

Summer break.
No school.
Baseball games 5 - 10 times a week, plus practices.
Morning rehearsals for musical.
Two one-week volleyball camps.
One one-week sewing camp.

Somewhere in between schlepping, cooking meals at odd times, laundry, grocery shopping, and my summer teaching schedule, I am supposed to be making art?


Saturday, June 4, 2011


In order to get the entirety of this post, you'll need to know a couple things.

One, I used to be a performer, as in I made a living onstage in the theatre.  I worked a lot and therefore met lots of other actors, many of whom went on to much bigger careers than mine.  When you rehearse for weeks on end and then sit backcstage with folks night after night, you develop deep, short-lived friendships.  It is very different from side-by-side office space.

B, I have a family history of all sorts of reproductive cancers, including immediate relatives who had or have breast cancer.

Third, personal finances preclude me from helping others out financially at this time.

How is any of this relevant to Woolynns, you ask.  It seems fate or god or timing has brought them all together recently.  At my last two shows in Michigan, I had women tell me that my square scarves would make nice chemo scarves.  I had a woman ask if I could teach a workshop on wet-felting to a group of cancer patients.  (I was unable to do that due to time constraints.)  A friend from high school started purchasing my scarves as gifts for his friends with breast cancer, including a commission this Spring.  (He also chastised me for not having enough pink scarves in stock.  I've been working on that.)  And then there is Suzanne Whang.

Suzanne and I acted together sometime last century.  We reconnected last year on Facebook.  I had seen her periodically on TV over the years as her star rose.  (Go read her bio and you'll see what I mean.)   This Winter she came out of the closet with her cancer diagnosis.  She'd been keeping it hidden for nearly five years.  Even with insurance and a good income, five years of health issues of this magnitude have wiped her out financially.  Many friends in Los Angeles began having benefits in her honor to raise money for medical expenses.  I wanted to help, but didn't have a penny to spare. That was when it hit me.  I can hold my own benefit.  Woolynns' Whang Fundraiser started on my etsy shop on June 1st.  15% of any online sales will go directly to defray medical expenses for Suzanne.  It runs for two weeks, after which I will decide whether to continue it for the month or find my next benefit recipient.

I know there are countless stories like Suzanne's.  She is fortunate enough to have numerous friends who are coming to her aid.  I consider myself lucky to be one of them, and I intend to create that sort of financial support for others who don't enjoy her large following as the years go by.

Adding to my pink inventory as directed.