Friday, March 21, 2014

The Pleasures Post Failure

I'm a practical knitter/crocheter.  I know that not everything I do is going to turn out well.  Sometimes it's the pattern.  Sometimes it's the yarn.  Sometimes the needle or hook.  Many times its the time of day, my mood, my respective alertness, the light in the room and on my work, what I had to eat a little ago or last night, the second drink, how tired I am of , well you name it and and this is a new one for me,,, (ha!) my overestimation of my skill level or my underestimation of the projects difficulty.

In other words; its mostly me. And, no, I'm not ashamed of it.  I take responsibility.  But its not my fault.  See, I picked the pattern (or made it up), the yarn the tools and I chose to work where I did, eat or drink what I did.  and even where I overestimate my skill or underestimate the pattern, well I still made that choice.

I repeat.  I take responsibility but its not my fault.  

Sounds contradictory.  What I am saying though, is that other big word above.... shame.  being at fault implies shame.  Yeah, its the language.  My goodness.  Its a craft, a project that is not for sale, does not have to be displayed, can be taken apart, thrown away, or, many times serve as the project that taught me a, b or c (a new technique, a yarn/needle/stitch combo that doesn't work well that I don't like to do... blah, blah)  So there is no need to feel any shame.  Accepting responsibility means I don't blame anything or person for the failure.  Realizing its not my fault, removes the same.  Makes me un-faulty.  I'm human, I make mistakes.  I'm human, I can admit them, take responsibility, correct them.  I can do what's right with the results.  But I do not have to bear the shame.  (Oh thank heavens its a craft and I can even throw the results away ---- I paid for the yarn, I own the results.)

I know this seems like a lot of discussion for a less than perfect result after the completion (or non-completion) of a craft project.  But that's the point.  It is a craft project.  Its not a space shuttle hurtling through space with people on-board.  Its not open heart surgery.  It's not a moral dilemma.

The problem comes when we, crafters and artists treat our failures as if they are the failures of space shuttles and surgeries.  Oh I'm not saying its wrong to cry a little and stamp our feet when things are not as we anticipated. I'm even a big one for holding a funeral for particularly bad results or maybe burying the entire uncompleted project for a few years.  Goodwill will accept all those unused skeins (and even the jumble of your attempt)  if you really must remove the evidence from your house.   I am saying that that should be a brief hiatus in our proceeding with the next project.

As crafters and artists we can also take pleasure in our failure.

That's right.  Pleasure.  (No, I'm not a yarn sadist.)

As crafters and artists when our efforts result in results that do not please us we can (after a little tears and foot stomping) start a new project.  And, I propose, the pleasure in starting a new project after a failed project is much more intense than that of starting a new project after a wildly successful one.  Think about it.  After a tremendous effort you complete a project that is perfect in every way.  Others complement you.  You gaze on it with great satisfaction.  Oh what a wonderful artist/crafter you are.  You can't wait to show it off.  It's one more confirmation on you value and worth.  You may delight in this project so much that you even delay starting anew one.  Or, you charge out and purchase new supplies and engage in grandiose pipe dreams about your next masterpiece.  But once you find yourself on the top of the world how can you get higher? Sooner or later you're going to crash.  We all know that multiple successes only lead to failure.

Now think about your work after a failure.  There is a critical difference here.  Actually there are at least  two.  First, you have learned something to avoid.  Maybe you need to lower expectations.  Perhaps a simpler lace project is in order.  (I doubt the makers of those incredible intricate cobweb lace shawls with borders that take as long to knit as the shawl itself, made them as their first lace project).  Perhaps a particular yarn or yarn/needle/hook combo is not a good choice.  Maybe you could limit yourself to one glass of wine for an evenings knitting (or maybe none -- try an expensive grape juice/pure cherry juice or other exotica instead).  Lets all pledge to get the temperature/lighting/seating just right for working.  Sometimes all it takes is the attitude that you will frog a project that is not coming out as expected and redo that funny part.  Or, maybe, you can get that frame of mind that says no matter what, THIS project is for the pleasure of doing, not for the pleasure of done.  Second, its a new project.  Its exciting.  New yarn, the growing visual effect as you build stitch after stitch, row after row.  The comfort and calming nature of continued movement, the rhythm of your work.  All of the things that make interesting art, repetition, movement, color, line. unity, balance, contrast, emphasis, variety may be there.  The anticipation, even before you start, is almost ecstatic.  Choosing and gathering the materials;  Displaying them across a neutral toned area such as a tan carpet, an off-white sheet; Studying the pattern and checking the measurements of the finished project against what you need for size and fit.  Perhaps making a cloth garment to those measurements;  Practicing a new stitch; Even the preparation of gauge swatches big enough to match required gauge and to check for drape.  all of these things add to the excitement.  Oh, and don't forget the many hours of pleasurable work.  Even if your project is for someone else, the work part, the anticipation, the gathering, that's for you.  You may even get the cross pleasure of sharing.  If this project is for someone else, they may join you in selecting the pattern, the yarn.  They may enjoy seeing the project grow and imagining how it will look when done.  If its for you, or that's not decided yet, will you work on it during meetings with others?  My library even has a stated policy that its ok to knit or crochet during a book club meeting.  These meetings are not about your work, but you do get to share them with anyone who pre or post meeting wants to see. (I even had a person comment, post heated discussion meeting, that they avoided argument with me because I had these big pointy sticks.)

So these are just a few of the pleasures that I get out of doing crafts and art that are intensified right after I fail.

And now, of course, I have to own up.  I just failed.  That is, the very last thing I did before this post was knit a sock and my sock makes the beautiful pattern created by the designer look ugly.  See, I had some trouble with the yarn and needles.  The yarn was quite splitty and the lace needles (a new brand for me in sock knitting) didn't help.  I used the two circular needle technique (my first time doing this) and the stitches caught on the join where the needle joins the cord.  I had some trouble with a stitch (turns out others did too and there was a simpler way to do it - the problem could have been avoided on my part if I had spoken up before working half the sock), because of the splittyness and the poor lighting I lost my way and found mistakes in my work long after making them (still, I could have frogged back and fixed them).

The project was a test, and the pattern did have multiple muddy areas. The sock came out too large.

But the ugliness is mine.  Other testers chose better their tools and yarn, spoke up, frogged and figured things out.  I got frustrated and made it work, but am unhappy with the results.

Still, right now, I can look at the sock, I can look at the picture of the sock, I see all my errors.  I see the good parts that I did.  I see things and pattern combinations that astounded me and have given me ideas for their use in other projects.  (I see a use for the leftover yarn)  and I am ready to frog the entire sock, take the revised pattern provided by the designer, choose new yarn and new needles (actually, old needles of a different brand) and make a pair. The pleasure in their making now that I have removed some of the causes and attitudes that caused my failure in the first place will be immense.  The anticipation is already making me hum (me, my body and soul though I remain mute here in the library)  --- oh wait till I am riding my bike home!  there will be song, there will be smiling, there will be imaginary tricks - a few loop-d-loops and other feats of fancy - there will be an excuse to order new yarn!  happy dance, happy dance.

And though I must order some new yarn and will not be able to start the socks when I get back to the studio. I have many, many new projects to start. (And I have a few mid progress as well).  this feeling of birthday/xmas morning/romantic evening (well maybe not quite the latter) will serve me well as I return to my way.