loveMELT #040: White Flags and Hidden Gems
As close as I live to Coney Island, I’ve yet to ride a single rollercoaster at the park. On a previous given day, especially as someone who enjoys rollercoasters, I would find that fact appalling, but with how things are currently moving, I feel like I get the gist of a ride daily. I’m sure you can relate.
Amidst mass chaos, I’m desperately trying to strategize my every move and control my personal life. Ironic for an artist who enjoys exploring materials and seeing what happens. I feel like two bull-headed people live inside of me. The unprogrammed side of me is all screw the failing system… live, laugh, love. The programmed side of me is informing me that, in fact, I am a fantastic failure with absolutely zero fucking prospects on all fronts of my life so I better figure out my entire life plan in the next 8 hours.
In all seriousness, I’ll have two days where I do the exact same things. I get up, I meditate, I apply to a couple of jobs I don’t want so I can afford to live, I apply to a grant or two, which takes hours, I work on art, I workout, I make (assemble) dinner, I work on art, I go to bed, I even sleep sometimes. One day is great, life is good, I’m on my life journey, and all is well. The very next day, I conclude I have nothing to show for myself or my art, I’m broke as a joke, and I'd better step back into shape REAL quick because everyone thinks, including myself, that I’m failing miserably and coloring too far outside of the lines.
The mind is wild.
I’ve been trying to prove myself to my family, myself, and others for so long, trying to show that pursuing a creative path wouldn’t build a masterpiece of failure. Trying to have everything figured out, trying to play the game smartly, albeit it looks more akin to a pinball machine game, sacrificing other parts of my life, working my ass off, doing all the things, trying to maintain control, wanting to be seen a certain way. The weight is heavy and I’m exhausted. And as much as I’ve experienced in my life, I tell myself I’m not good enough, I’m not doing enough, that I should be doing all these things to be and look like ‘success’.
Continuing to lack steady income, I’m looking for jobs, constantly triggering a mind-game spiral. Do I take a higher-paid, full-time job that gets me by more easily financially and gives me health insurance, but typically depletes my time and energy to work on art, and depletes my soul? Not that I’m receiving ANY responses from my applications. Do I take a lesser-paid job that’s less of a mindfuck and live frugally, but doesn’t position me well to network with potential collaborators, expanders, or clients? Do I return to a restaurant so I don’t carry the weight of work home, will likely be around creatives, but could be a crapshoot monetarily, and ties up my nights and weekends when most art openings/events and social things happen? Not to mention my ego, which feels like it's taking steps backward by serving tables again…. But perhaps it’s what I should do if I can just swallow my ego.
Money, identity, money, identity, money, identity is all I hear when I speak about these things.
The white flag is up. I’m surrendering.
I’m a teeeeee tiiiiiny spec of a drop in this vast universe, so even when I think I’ve got something figured out or think I have a sense of reality, I most certainly do not. I’m letting go of my identity, my sense of success, my rigid thinking of how to get to success, what it looks like, and what it means. Even when I’ve felt a sense of safety from having a well-paying job, etc. It’s false and has also been pulled out from under me instantly. Real safety comes within myself. Knowing I will always be okay because I can trust myself and am okay with my being in the universe. Some days I feel it, some days I don’t. This is now what I’m focusing on.
I’ve done a few things recently to take the pressure off myself and counteract my perfectionist, success-driven ego and sense of identity. I’m working on a painting that is for me and has no other purpose than that. I’m spending hours on it at night. Part of me is dying inside, telling myself I’m wasting valuable time when I should be working on art that is meant to be seen (aka sold), writing for a grant, applying to a job, the list goes on.
I’m starting to explore new ways of manipulating textiles. It’s a slow process and before, during, and after I experiment, I’m beating myself up, telling myself I’m wasting time, that it looks like shit, that it’s going nowhere. But deep, deeeeep down, past the grave capitalism has dug me, I know it’s the best thing I can do for myself and my creativity, so I continue forward feeling like a loser and just dealing with the feeling as I learn and play.
When my budget allows, I’m checking out spots to explore the city and witness different modes of art.
I’ve also volunteered at Fab Scrap several times this month. It’s a nice reprieve from my mind’s onslaught of thoughts. The work is a bit monotonous, but it’s a manual activity, I’m looking at and touching all kinds of fabrics, and I’m meeting new people while I’m there. Overall, its a polite way of telling my mind to please shut the fuck up and just be present.
Some interesting things I’ve learned while volunteering at Fab Scrap. For one, it is located in the Brooklyn Army Terminal.
Built in 1918, Brooklyn Army Terminal became the largest military supply base in the US. Originally known as the US Army Military Ocean Terminal, the campus was a pivotal site for military operations, employing more than 25,000 military and civilian personnel during World War II. One of its more famous moments came in 1958 when Elvis Presley deployed from the site to Germany. After 47 years, the Brooklyn Army Terminal was closed as a military base in 1966 but remained active with private business and government tenants until the early 1970s. It was purchased by the City in 1981. — Brooklyn Army Terminal
On average, Fab Scrap receives 7,000+ pounds of fabric weekly from roughly 800 brands based in New York and Philly. My mind is boggled. Each time I volunteer, I get 5 pounds of free fabric, however, I have a knack for going over the free limit, but the fabrics I purchase are discounted. I’m accumulating fabrics to build my own textile library for experimenting and using. If you’re interested in volunteering, sign up through their website.
While applying for jobs, I also discovered a textile-focused nonprofit called Tatter. It’s in the same building as Brooklyn Art Cluster and the Textile Arts Center, another gem to check out if you’re into textiles and not yet familiar with the organization and its offerings.
Tatter has a library chock-full of textile books, and it’s entirely blue. I’m assuming it’s an ode to indigo. And while I had to make a paid appointment to visit, it was worth it. I could spend days in that library, looking through the books, lounging, and discussing findings with other textile lovers.
I primarily focused my research on ‘how-to’ books during my visit. Seeing some familiar titles and finding some new ones. It further motivated me to continue my exploration of fabric manipulation. For so long, textiles have been perceived as only craft, and often the craft of a lowly woman (historically known as a ‘spinster’ in some countries), that the work has not been well exhibited, well documented, or thoroughly understood in the capital A art world. It is just now gaining some recognition, against a lot of odds, and I’d like to keep pushing it in that direction. The beauty of this is, I can do so through play…if I just let myself.
All of this is to say, I’m wearing my white flag and surrendering my ego. Regardless of what happens in my life, I won’t stop making things (however slowly), I won’t stop learning things, and I won’t stop learning how to make things. The rest will be what it may.
Sending you some sense of peace and the prompt to go play,
Sadie
