Learning and my thing

As long as I remember I have been crafting and drawing. I have tried everything that happened to cross my way with never a fear of failure or thinking I might not understand how it works. Music was different, in fact there were many years that I insisted I was completely unmusical.

While my crafting endeavors often didn’t satisfy my aesthetic sensibilities, there were always family members, or friends, who loved what I had produced. I could learn what I wanted to learn and always had something to give away, or admire. Repetition was never boring, because it never repeated in exactly the same way. Intuitively I grasp how the visual elements go together and how these could be modified. Every drawing class I ever took gave me something unique, something my own. It might not have been pretty, but it was unique to my way of seeing the world.

The few times I tried learning to make music, I gave up before something acceptable was produced. I dreaded the “endless” rounds of scales and finger exercises, the repetition to get something just right (or anywhere near right). I would daydream away my practice time thinking about a time when maybe I could arrange elements, or notes in new ways to make something unique. But I lack that intrinsic understanding of tones and how they work together, so all my musical endeavors will always be imitation. I don’t do imitation well when I could be creating something new.

And one day I came to knitting. I struggled at first, because I did not understand it and had to follow the directions exactly. But once the muscle memory developed and I knew how to make different stitches I could deviate and, more importantly, understand what I was doing. Each pattern I bought and knit contained clues and elements to build my knitting library. I learned about three-dimensional construction from string. I learned about decorative elements, about form following function. I started experimenting with combinations of these elements and now I am at a point where, when inspiration strikes, I can just sit down and start knitting. There is still a lot I can/want/need to learn, beading for example and color work, but my knitting “vocabulary” is big enough to produce things that resemble my ideas and that cause joy in other people. And so I came to this thing that might be a business in disguise.

I am learning again. Like how small a part of the design process the actual idea and initial knit is. How different ideas about the easiness of a pattern can be, or what is considered cluttered. How different responses can be to one and the same object. I am learning about how perceived and actual value of a thing differ. Some of the learning hurts, some I accept with grace and some fills little gaps in my internal landscape so that suddenly seemingly unrelated things make sense. I strive to be in this process with love and play. I strive to not rush, but grow this thing slowly and gently instead. And as I learn things I can understand them and modify them and grow my own business culture of love and joy.

Cross-posted to The Naked Alpaca.