Failure is an option

I jotted this title in my diary last week when I was feeling fed up.  Maybe I should give it a positive twist and call it, ‘not succeeding is an option’, but failure is very much what I thought and felt at that moment, so let’s go with that.

Things I think (in no particular order):

1.      This is rubbish – the weaving is too tight, too wonky, too difficult to ‘read’, too simple, too messy…

2.      The plan I had in my head and the plan I drew don’t match each other – and neither match what is appearing before me on the loom.  It’s a disaster.

3.      I thought I could do this but its beyond me – I don’t have the skill or the patience.

4.      The blending is totally off and, while I’m here, the colours are horrible.  What on earth was I thinking?

5.      I’m just wasting time and materials on something that just needs to live in the bin.

6.      Everyone else’s work is more imaginative/ more creative/ more interesting/ better conceived and made.

7.      Even blocking and mounting it hasn’t saved it…

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Solutions (disclaimer; these are my solutions and even then, they don’t work half the time):

1.      Nobody is perfect all the time – and all those homilies I used to trot out for my midwifery students are true.  “You are learning all the time – if you think you’ve got nothing left to learn then you are a danger to your profession” (to be fair, in tapestry weaving the stakes aren’t quite as high…which is encouraging).  “Even if you are very experienced you will have bad days when nothing makes sense and nothing goes right.”  “There will always be someone cleverer/wiser/more adept/more knowledgeable/braver than you – that’s ok and remember they will still have bad days.”  All good stuff and true in weaving even though it’s just me, my hands and my head, rather than a room full of people.  Tapestry weaving is what I have chosen to focus on and spend significant time on.  Its matters to me.  One of the reasons I love weaving in (good) company (see last blog) is that it’s reassuring to know that other people also experience their versions of my issues, plus others all their own.

2.      Keep a loom warped.  One of my biggest issues is starting – that blank sheet of paper, that empty loom.  Once I have something I can work with it, but until I do it’s easiest not to bother, to walk away.  Don’t get me wrong – sometimes walking away is exactly the right option.  Staring at a blank screen or sheet of paper willing the magic to happen can just make you feel worse.  And with a loom there is a lot of effort involved in warping (especially a Mirrix!) so you must believe in what you are doing and where you are going.  Or at least reach a state of mindful acceptance so the process washes over you.  If you are already feeling a bit down or antsy then a pre-warped loom is your saviour because you can dive straight in.  If I was super organised, I’d keep loads of looms dressed – different sizes, warps, setts etc.  But one at a time is a start.  (I don’t do any of this, but I think about it a lot and I’m sure it would solve all my problems.  I’ll report back).

3.      Rules help.  Again, this is something I need to get better at.  Use a limited palate of colours (even just two or three).  Use simple shapes or a simple design – so that you can actually weave instead of faffing about making up lots of bundles or having 17 butterflies on the go.  Use a bigger sett, bigger warp, huge weft – make progress quickly.  Or go small so that you can stop before you get bored.

4.      Play.  Have no rules!  Use different materials as your weft – play with paper, string, nylon crap you found on the beach, raffia, roving, cooked spaghetti (hmmm), that horrible glittery yarn you bought for 50p and have never used.  You never know what might work.  Don’t take yourself so seriously!

5.      Appreciate the learning.  Again, this is the teacher in me coming out (I come from a family of teachers – I just can’t help myself).  Even if something is rubbish it gives pointers and ideas.  This might be positive ones of “that bit worked” or “that green and that pink are magnificent together, I’d never have known”.  They might be negative ones “This colour combination should never be seen again”, “This line of soumak needs burying deep underground”.  It might that I really like that sett, those colours, that yarn – just not in that way.  Or it might be that I feel none of it has worked and that’s still learning even if it feels a bit negative.  When I’m feeling strong, I can move on from “yuk” to “why didn’t it work…?”

I have probably written all this just to make myself feel better about something I spent time on and just didn’t work.  Onward and upward

.  And note to self:  sometimes things do work!