Thanks... I think.

Recently, I volunteered with a local theatre group, building sets and props. I'd recently moved to a new city, didn't know anyone except for a few casual acquaintances from school, and was feeling at loose ends. I figured it would be a good application of my crafty jones and make me feel a little less lonely. I did it purely out of self-interest. It had occurred to me that having volunteer experience building these sorts of things would be a good addition to my resume- I tend to take an idea and run it right to the end of what's possible. So I was thinking something like, "I'll start out doing it for free, and then I can apply to companies that make things for film and TV. Getting paid to do something different every day would be my dream job!"

Clearly, my imagination is bit bigger than reality. Long story short, I went, I made. Turned out I spent most of my time alone in a warehouse. So the idea of making friends was a bit shot. Oh well. It was still fun.

After the production's run ended there was a wrap party for the cast. I debated- should I go, and be the pathetic little person sitting in the corner? After all, the actors had all been working together for months. I hadn't even met some of them. They were friends, and I was basically a stranger. Bad situation.

On the other hand, I wasn't going to make any friends staying home.

I went. The actors and crew people were lovely. Fun all around. I was extremely surprised to be the recipient of 4 separate thank you cards for the work I'd done. I didn't expect that at all! So that was a thing.

One thing I heard over and over that night was "we couldn't have done it without you!" Which is a perfectly understandable sentiment. It did trigger a contrarian response deep in my brain. "You didn't even try!" Nothing I did was terribly complicated or scary or required special training or knowledge. Anyone with decent eye sight and hand-eye coordination could have done it.

Anyone who stepped out of their comfort zone and tried.

The Question of Pride

Hmm. The question of the day is "what are you most proud of?"

That's a complicated question. Am I proud of the things I've made? Um. not really, not in a "look what I did!" kind of way. I don't make things because I want to show off my skills. I make things because I have to. I get cranky if I don't. That's not really something to be proud of.

That have to leads me down the road to trying out all kinds of things. I decide I want to make X. Not a clue how to do it. So I figure it out. I read about what other people have done, or adapt skills I already have to the new project. I experiment. I fail. I try again.

Eventually, it comes out right. I breathe a sigh of relief and start a new project- right back where I started, with an idea and not a clue how to bring it to life. That's part of the fun.

Maybe what I'm proud of is encouraging other people to get their hands dirty. Or if not legitimately dirty per se, at least to get their crafty mojo running. I take public transit a fair bit, and I make certain I don't travel empty-handed. I use the time to knit or work on another small project. Often, fellow travelers watch me work, which sometimes feels a bit creepy, but that's just me. Some times they're another knitter and engage me in conversation about what I'm working on. Other times, they ask how I learned to knit. "From YouTube," I say.

"Oh, I could never do that; it's so complicated," they say.

"How many stops do you have before your destination?" I ask.

"Five or six," they say hesitantly, wondering what I'm up to.

"Perfect," I say, digging my spare needles and some cotton yarn out of my bag. "Sit down and I'll teach you how to do it. It only takes ten minutes."

And they do. They're always amazed at how simple it really is. I explain how to cast on, the knit stitch and let them try it out. Once they've got the hang of it, they're all smiles. I give them the needles, enough yarn to complete a garter stitch dish cloth, and a sheet of pictures showing how to cast off. They usually want to know why I'm giving these things away. "Just sharing the crafty goodness," is always my reply.

A couple of times I've had those folks find me on the platform weeks later, wanting to show me their finished product. That's something to be proud of, right there.

For those of you who want to learn and don't find themselves on the TTC, here's a good video about casting on from Koser Yasmine Samkough on YouTube.

(top image "borrowed" from stitchdiva.com)

The Dreaded "What Do You Do?"

What do you do?

That's a question guaranteed to make your conversation partner uncomfortable, and frankly bore you to tears listening to the answer. Most of us are stuck in jobs we can barely tolerate ourselves and certainly don't want to rehash in our free time.

I don't answer the question with the expected. From 8:30 to 5 most days, I'm an admin. However, saying that is what I do is mildly embarrassing and largely dishonest. Admin work may be what pays my rent, but it's not who I am.  I'm a maker. That's what I do: I knit, I sew, I build, I design. I invent. That's what I do.

And really, if we're having a casual chat, would you rather hear about the adventure I just had using a pottery wheel for the first time (I did not know I could make that big a mess in such a small amount of time!) or listen to me mumble something about endless spreadsheets? That's what I thought. You want to hear the engaging, sometimes funny stories.

I've made a commitment to conversational improvement. I will never again ask someone what they do. From now on, I'm going to ask what they make. Everyone makes something, whether they believe it or not. Some people make cakes or amazing Italian meals. Some make dresses for their grandchildren. A lot of people make beer these days. And some people make stories, written or oral. Holding court in a coffee shop, regaling your friends with tall tales is actually making- you're making entertainment, your'e making connections.

Telling people I'm a maker gives me an opportunity to share my joy. Talking about invoicing does not. Telling people what I really do opens the door for them to say, "oh, I always wanted to try such and such." Which is the moment I want to have, when I can say "what's stopping you?"

Because this is my passion, I almost always know where to direct them to get started. I might not know how to build a robot; I do know where the hackerspace in my city is, and that those people will help someone learn. I know where the tool library is ("I was always interested in woodworking, but the tools are so expensive..." NO, they're $50 for all you can use in a year!), I know who teaches sewing, and jewelry making, and painting, and drawing, and cooking, and automechanics. And on and on. Give me a chance; I'll have you creating in no time! I want to tell everyone where those resources are because I truly believe humans are wired to create and invent.

And play. That's what making really is, in all it's forms. It's play and meditation and prayer rolled into one. It's why I get up in the morning and often why I stay up late.

It's what I do.

What Difference Do I Want to Make? What Difference Can I Make?

What difference do I want to make in the world? What difference can I make? I'm only one person, and not a terribly social or persuasive person at that. I'm prone to wild swings of commitment to most causes and projects. What I can say is that the one thing that doesn't change is my passion for handwork; proper get-your-hands-into-it and get dirty work. The people I respect most in the world aren't actors or politicians or CEOs. They're mechanics and woodworkers and blue collars of all stripes. Why? Because they're the folks who get things done! Without people who have solid technical skills, nothing can happen. If you need a house, no amount of mortgage brokers or bankers can make that house appear without construction workers to build it. No amount of money can fix your alternator without a mechanic. An army of developers and coders can't make the internet run without technicians to lay cable, build satellites, and maintain that network.

We're about to enter a period where a serious blue collar shortage is going to interrupt a lot of industries because the last twenty years has been dedicated to undervaluing trades and directing students to choose white collar or service professions. According to Forbes magazine, 38% of skilled trades jobs are held by workers 55 or older, particularly in electrical and machine maintenance trades. Those folks are going to retire and there aren't enough young people going to trade school to replace them because our culture has been streaming people into the debt-heavy world of university education. Well, that's okay, you say. Companies will just have to pay more for workers with those skill sets. Except that's not happening either. Wages for skilled labour have not improved, in fact they've fallen. Who wants to train for years or do an apprenticeship for a minimum wage job? That's right, no one!

Until we start to respect the trades, the situation will not improve. That's the difference I try to make- I share my enthusiasm for hands-on work with everyone I meet. I do my best to improve my skills in these areas so I can teach other people how to do things for themselves.

Knowledge breeds respect. Someone who's tried to build a bookshelf and come out with a not so satisfying result has more respect for a craftsperson who can make one than someone who just went to a store and bought a shelf. Heck, someone who's opened the hood of their car and taken a look at the engine has more respect for mechanics than someone who hasn't. I'm not trying to get everyone to take up a trade, merely to make them acknowledge how necessary they are to the day to day functioning of the world.

Dirty Hands Will Save Your Life

Normally, a blank page is inspiring, full of possibility. I can tell any story I choose, be anyone I can imagine for a moment. This blog is different. I don't mean for it to be fiction. I want it to be as real as possible; a place to show and tell what's important to me.

Just what is important to me, you ask? Well, on the most basic level, creating is what makes me tick. I make things and invent things and modify things. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. That's what I'll write about here. Documenting my process isn't something I'm terribly good at. When I'm working on something, I get very focused and stopping to take photos simply doesn't occur to me. I'll do my best.

What I want people to get out of this blog is simple: I want people to read my posts and think "hey, I could do that!" Then maybe they'll go do it. I sure hope they do!

Things I have on the go right now that'll end up here in some way:
-Sets and props for a community theatre production
-a 100% hand-made wardrobe
-a kitchenette set that desperately needs some TLC
-an antique cabinet in need of repair and refinishing
-tchotckes for a craft swap
-shoes made from scratch (this project is a bit of a fail right now, but I'm working on it!)
-a total overhaul of my pickup truck

Oh, and a pair of socks I'm knitting that might turn out to be the world's ugliest!

Why am I doing this? Because I believe that people are inherently creative, and when we stop making and experimenting and imagining it's bad for our health, our sanity, and our world. Sitting around doing nothing except watching TV makes you depressed. Let's get going!