We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.
Oscar Wilde
I seem to have reached a crossroads, the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. After being challenged with a two-by-four wake-up call, I felt very lost for a couple of weeks there (and maybe I’ll feel lost again yet, but right now I’m doing inspiration rather nicely.) Someone I care about died, and although I didn’t know him personally, I nevertheless felt affected. I’m not going to apologise for that.
His work was different from that of many of his contemporaries. He didn’t go for the easy money, he went for the challenges, and that seems to show that he cared deeply about his art. He once verbalised it by quoting that old poem: “Work like you don’t need the money; love like you’ve never been hurt; dance like no-one’s watching.” His legacy just shines because of it.
Last summer I decided to face my financial situation head on. I stopped complaining that sewing doesn’t make a living and found another way to bring a wage in through what I love, whilst also adding something to the world. The result is Your Wardrobe Unlock’d magazine. Now that it’s three months old I feel as though it’s settled into a system of sorts. I know what’s needed each month and I’m much less inclined to panic about making it big enough and good enough. It’s not scary any more. That’s not to say that it’ll stop improving. From here on, I think it’ll get better and better because I’m interested in making it better, not in making it good enough.
Heath Ledger’s death has made me want to concentrate some more on the art itself – getting out from behind the computer and picking up a needle, and not just because someone came to me with a commission. His silly, funny, inspiring movie A Knight’s Tale was a ray of hope for me at a difficult time, and so I feel a need to make something out of the tragedy we’ve lately witnessed. I think of him as someone who had an easy love of life and a passion for the art form he chose. At a time when one suddenly achieves a rare perspective on the world, I have to take stock and notice the lists of names on my wall of all the things I have not made yet.
It’s like a writer’s list of great book titles. She doesn’t know what the stories are yet, but the titles open up sounds and smells and places she wants to go. It’s time to honour them.
This is a lot like the Holy Grails I was talking about in last month’s issue of the magazine – grand designs that you think about for fun but could never make, fiendishly difficult, extortionately expensive, ravenously time-consuming, and yet as seductive as any unattainable French chateau or English mansion. I rambled at length about my Peacock Dress (an ten-pound Edwardian masterpiece covered in gold bullion embroidery and beetle wings) and pontificated about how important it is to have such impossible plans. I promised a follow-up article about How To Go About Maybe Possibly One Day Having A Go At Really, Truly, Making Your Holy Grail.
I think I’m going to have to do more than write about it.
However, I’m not going to make the Peacock Dress. It’s too safe. It’s already been done. I know what it looks like. It would be an expensive exercise in painting by numbers. No, I need to go for something more daring. Aim higher. If there’s another way to aim, I don’t know it.
So I’m going to stop procrastinating over those lists on the wall. I’m going to make those titles into something real and tangible. And that’s scary, because it means that I have to put my money where my mouth is (and did I mention that I’ve no idea where to get the money?) I’m going to ride into this adventure with no knowledge of the result and have faith that it’ll work. Change your stars.
Anyone want to join me on the journey?
[x-posted to harmanhay blog]