I got several hours’ work in on the skirt this afternoon. I used the muslin to make corrections to the paper pattern (because the fabric was already beginning to fray since it was cheap polyester, and since I’m pretty sure that if this works, K. will want me to make her one. Since her skirt fits me just about perfectly, I think we’re probably about the same size.) I got it cut out of the real fabric (a black quick-dry nylon and some green moleskin-type stuff for the yoke facing), and got some rather large pieces sewn together.
There will be pictures of it, hopefully soon. But Blogger’s photo uploader doesn’t like me on any browser tonight. (Edit, 3/10 9AM: I managed to get it working long enough to get one pic in here. But none of the skirt yet, and it died on me again.)
Also tried something new on Friday night. But there’s a background story to this, so here goes.
I didn’t originally intend to go into music. In fact, I started college as an art major, with plans to major in photography. I used to do art a lot–along with band, it was my top extracurricular when I was in high school, and I would do it a good bit in my free time too. (Actually, I was voted “most artistic” in the senior yearbook, along with two of my classmates. There were a couple winners in almost every category. I did get “most musical” too. Yes, I was the consummate art/band geek.) And when it came time to decide what I wanted to major in, since I’d given up on my long-term wish to become a veterinarian (I worked in a vet clinic one summer, and while I loved it, having to help with things like euthanizing the animals was just too hard for me), I decided to major in art and minor in music. The reason? I figured there were more jobs available with an art degree, like stuff in advertising and graphic design and whatnot. My flute teacher laughed at me when I told her I wasn’t going into music, and it turned out she was right. First semester freshman year was brutal–I was taking the introductory drawing class and 2-D Design, and since pretty much all of my exposure to art was a very small program at my school that was headed by a teacher who was very kind and encouraging, but not very critical of our work, I was having a really hard time with the coursework. And since I’d generally been a straight-A honor student, it was tough on me mentally (and physically) to be staying up until 3 or 4 in the morning on a regular basis trying to get my artwork done, getting up around 6 to catch the bus into campus for my 8 AM classes (I was commuting, and freshmen always get the crappy 8:00 classes), only to manage a B- at best on my drawings. (Or, as happened quite frequently in my 2-D design class, to have the professor decide the entire class’s work was sub-par at best and tell us all to do the assignment again.)
Meanwhile, my work for my music minor was going extremely well. I’d gotten into the toughest ensemble (last chair, but when I started, making wind ensemble was rare for a freshman flutist just due to the heavier competition for seats), I got along well with my flute professor, and when I took my introductory ear training and harmony courses over the winter session, I was surprised at how little stress I felt in the classes. When spring semester started getting closer, I started dreading the upcoming semester and what was awaiting me in the next round of art classes. It was one of those God things, really–I woke up the day before the semester was supposed to start with the clear conviction that I needed to switch to music, cleared it with my parents and my flute professor, spent the day running around and changing my entire schedule for the spring semester, and never looked back. The only regret I’ve ever had about that decision was that ever since then, I just haven’t been able to do art. When I was in school I was just too busy, but once I finished grad school I was just too mental blocked for anything other than the nature photography I toy with. That’s one of the main things that really kept me doing scrapbooking. Other than needing something to do with the pictures I take and enjoying the writing aspect of it, since English was always one of my best subjects as well, it’s really been the closest thing to art I’ve been able to do in my crafting. But I’ve found myself missing art and wishing I could find a way to start picking it up again.
A friend and I had a blog conversation recently (on my other blog) about Artist Trading Cards, or ATCs. I’d heard of them before, thanks to Craftster.org, but she’s the one who really got me curious. Basically the premise is you make art the size of a baseball card and swap them for free with other artists, so it’s a way to encourage people to both make and collect independent art. She and another friend were making some to swap, and since she knows I’m a crafty girl, she asked if maybe I’d be interested in doing it sometime. We haven’t made definite plans on that yet, other than it’ll probably be inspired by lyrics from musicians we both like, but since I was feeling too drained and headachey from allergies to cut out the real Sidone on Friday night, I stayed in my room and made my very first ATC instead.
Nothing brilliant, of course, it’s just basically an ink doodle on leftover scrapbook cardstock and tinted with colored pencils. But still, it’s one of the first things I’ve drawn in years that wasn’t just a clothing design rough sketch. So this just might be a perfect way for me to do art again–small projects that take little time and can be swapped. (The text, btw, is lyrics from the song that inspired the drawing, “Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then” by The Decemberists.)