Miranda and the Artist's Learning Curve

This is Miranda. She was my teacher last night, as you'll see, and she was most patient and effective. Every artist, every crafter needs a Miranda. Here she is at a restaurant.






I've sat at sewing machines since I was thirteen, and I grew up around them. Clothes, quilts, wall hangings, artsy-craftsy items and more have come from my Singer sewing machines. I have this ginormous fabric stash in my garage going back 20 years (with some fabrics from 1980-1983). But I had to set aside sewing for the last four years other than making curtains for my mother in 2008 and a sewing job in January - and that job reminded me why I love to sew and how much I miss it.



Well, a week or so ago, I got a Borders 40% off coupon in my inbox. That, for a book lover, is akin to giving home-grown catnip to a cat. Purr-- uh, muttering in excitement, I headed for my local Borders (which, fortunately, is not being closed) to browse. I was delighted to find this book:



I'm a bird watcher. I'm a crafter or artist. And my sister's birthday was rapidly approaching. Need I say more? There are many scrumptious projects in this book and I had the supplies. Oh, which one to make? The week took on a life of its own, as weeks do, and the ensuing time crunch had me eliminating the more elaborate projects. I was quite taken with this Quail project and I had all the fabrics chosen in pale yellows, greens and purples:

Easy-peasy, right? 'Twas the day and night before my sister's birthday...and if that doesn't have red flags and alarms going for all you crafters out there, I don't know what does. The first bird was a pinhead quail. The author's instructions didn't quite work the way they should have, particularly with the head and bottom gussets. Gussets are a necessary evil in sewing 3-D objects, to keep them from being flat and two-dimensional. So I sat down again and reviewed the instructions. I mentally told the author what she could do with instructions #2, 6 and 7 and did it my way. Better, much better. Then I hit a roadblock. I'm not sure what exactly happened. The project wasn't flowing, it was late and I was tired and cold and exasperated and annoyed with myself. This is what my dining room looks like when I'm immersed in a project.

Can you tell I need my own crafting/sewing room? Badly. But I'm utterly grateful for having this much space! In my previous location, I had to use a desk with about 2 feet by 3 feet of clear space in a space created by two sofas at a 90-degree angle in a corner. So this is heaven.

This was taken at about 1:30 AM. By midnight or so, that roadblock hit. I briefly considered setting aside the project and buying something for my sister. I paced back and forth. I asked myself why I was doing this. Come to think of it, that's still kind of a good question...always is.

Because, you see, something shifted. I was in the living room, where my ironing board was set up and the uncut but ironed fabrics were draped over chairs, and I was staring blankly at the fabrics with the quail in my hand...and this tiny, tiny voice whispered in my mind...Hi, I'm Miranda. You know me. I've read Diary of a Mad Housewife (oh, I probably wrote it) and The Bell Jar and I've read Gone With the Wind. I read a lot and my life is crazy and not always my own...and I'm unique. I'm MIRANDA! I looked down at Miranda with shocked delight - remembering - when my creations talk to me or I weave stories about and around them, then I'm tapping into my core, my heart, of creativity, reaching into the recesses of my soul and my mind - how could I have forgetten this?

And I spent a glorious hour or so putting the finishing touches on Miranda - she did not at all want to look prim and proper like the quail project in the book. I created a wire nest with fabric strips woven throughout the wires because Miranda is a mother and loves her home and her brood even if they drive her crazy. I created wires and beads for her quail head feathers and true to form, they wobble, and I created a necklace for her because she just loves bling. But the beak wouldn't stay on. It wouldn't. So I whipped out the disappearing-ink pen and inked in a toothy, mad grin and used pen ink over it. (That purple ink had better air-disappear as the packaging claims. But if it doesn't, then Miranda has a few tattoos!) And I went to bed tired and happy.

In the morning, I found a note from my daughter next to Miranda: Mom, Aunt Lynn's present is beautiful but you should really consider putting a beak on it. It doesn't look like a bird, it has a creepy smile. But it's very creative. (heart)

So I thought some more. Aha! A beak mask! I grabbed felt and orange thread and created a beak mask for the days when Miranda must put on a nice face and go out. It can be removed any time to show that toothy, maniacal grin:

Miranda and my sister (her birthday is today) took to each other and when I showed her that quail picture, she said "uh-uh, I love Miranda, she's perfect" - and talked about Miranda flying until she finds her own spot in her house or craft room and taking the beak mask off as a mood indicator.

Thank you, Miranda. I know you'll be very happy in Lynn's home - and I'll make the other birds MY WAY, listening to them and their stories and knowing to whom they will go.