When I took my new job in August I immediately fell in love with a coworker I will call Fozzy Bear. Having grown up around a lot of gay men, and been deprived of them lately, I was smitten with him. He was rocking an adorable wide hybrid of a fauxhawk and mohawk. So one day I talked him into getting a pic and took it into my stylist.
I rocked that pseudo-hawk look for a while, then eventually let it grow out at the behest of family members who hated the look. At my next hair appointment I had resigned myself to get something short and dyke-ish ala Ellen Degeneres, but in my search for short hairstyles I found a really cool spin on a mohawk and I was strongly considering it.
My regular stylist had to scoot out for "kid emergency" and since I had already left work early I decided to take anyone available to regulate my messy hair and wild brows. That's how I met mini-me. Blond, bubbly and adorable we chatted like crazy while she separated my wild Germanic eyebrows into two individual units. Then, as she wrapped the hair cape around my neck I showed her what I was thinking of doing. A wild platinum blonde mohawk with long bangs.
Her excitement told me there was no backing out, no going with a tidy, dykey Ellen Degeneres look. After deciding on a 3-finger-width hawk she expertly pinned up my hair and after making one small correction, set to clipping away. "This hair needs a theme song," she exclaimed as she gleefully clipped away my hair, "like 'Eye of the Tiger'."
I feigned shock as she buzzed my scalp to a tight #1. "Are you okay?" she asked, gleefully. "Oh yeah," I replied, "it's just a lot of my head." The training wheels were off, I was doing this. The other students at the beauty school looked on in amazement as my hair fell to the ground.
As we bonded over my disappearing hair, a disapproving client next to me started asking about my cut. "Will your work be okay with that," she asked, her voice dripping with derision. "Oh yeah," I casually replied, "I've done it before."
"Oh, well do you work with the public or just on the phone?" she continued. I told her that I work in technology and that the last time I cut my hawk the CEO was just bummed that I didn't do any wild colors. Call center work paid my bills and then some for many years and I see no shame in that. Excelling at customer service isn't easy and I had, but the implication that all I could amount to with wild hair was a phone minion struck a nerve.
Like Eskimos and their countless words for snow and the German "loan word" 'schadenfreude' there are so many terms that the English language lacks. When she asked if I was "trying to make a statement" I had nothing. I mean, it's just hair, it grows back, right? But now, I'm experiencing a little bit of what the French call 'eprit d’escalier,' or, the wit of the staircase. The clever things you think of when it's too late.
What I should have told her is that yes, I'm trying to make a statement that I quilt. Though, her head exploding all over the place would have been gross and then I for sure wouldn't have been able to get my color done.
My hair is just another craft project, a way to have a little fun and make something interesting. And, like all my quilts and crafts, I like to challenge ideas about what is traditional, accepted and so on. The big question is, when I take my intermediate free motion quilting class next week, will it change anyone's ideas about their art?
60 Watt Brownies
Friday, February 10, 2012
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Low Wattage Culinary Endeavors
Most days at work I find myself tuned into some lovely downtempo beats on Pandora. Something enjoyable, but not too distracting. However, one day I found myself with a task that was so simple and repetitive that I didn't need a lot of concentration. I decided to explore Pandora's comedy stations an that's where I was introduced to Josh Sneed.
In his bit, “60-watt Brownies” he talks about his Snoopy snow cone machine and what anthropologists call “balanced, delayed reciprocity.” As the owner of a Snoopy snow cone machine he hopes that in spending an inordinate amount of time grinding up one ice cube for his sister, she might later bake him a brownie with her Easy Bake Oven.
With the dawning of compact flourescent light bulbs I realize that even now this reference is becoming obscure, but it resonanted with me. My whole handmade arts experience has been, in a way, on par with making 60-watt brownies. And I'm not saying that what I do is cheap, cheating or a shortcut, it's just slightly unconvential.
I've been sewing since I was twelve and I made my first quilt for my newborn nephew about 5 years ago. Still, I feel at odds with the quilting crowd because they don't sew apparel. I make floral wreaths on used ropes from rodeo cowboys and jewelry out of beads and old bike parts. So, in a sense, I've been baking 60-watt brownies all my life.
And, I think there are a lot of you out there who are just like—me resourceful, creative, talented people whose crafts defy labels. Those who quilt in the spare moments a full time job and a life allows, those who make beauty out of garbage. Those who do because it makes them happy.
I want to share my projects with you and I hope together we can learn and build a community of building something out of nothing.
In his bit, “60-watt Brownies” he talks about his Snoopy snow cone machine and what anthropologists call “balanced, delayed reciprocity.” As the owner of a Snoopy snow cone machine he hopes that in spending an inordinate amount of time grinding up one ice cube for his sister, she might later bake him a brownie with her Easy Bake Oven.
With the dawning of compact flourescent light bulbs I realize that even now this reference is becoming obscure, but it resonanted with me. My whole handmade arts experience has been, in a way, on par with making 60-watt brownies. And I'm not saying that what I do is cheap, cheating or a shortcut, it's just slightly unconvential.
I've been sewing since I was twelve and I made my first quilt for my newborn nephew about 5 years ago. Still, I feel at odds with the quilting crowd because they don't sew apparel. I make floral wreaths on used ropes from rodeo cowboys and jewelry out of beads and old bike parts. So, in a sense, I've been baking 60-watt brownies all my life.
And, I think there are a lot of you out there who are just like—me resourceful, creative, talented people whose crafts defy labels. Those who quilt in the spare moments a full time job and a life allows, those who make beauty out of garbage. Those who do because it makes them happy.
I want to share my projects with you and I hope together we can learn and build a community of building something out of nothing.
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