creative.mother.thinking

explaining my life to strangers

Archives for April 2008

Not fitting in

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I really wanted to write my monthly post about something social. Really. There would have been something about becoming a mother, and society, and books, and the color pink. Again. But then I found that it isn’t about pink books in bookstores for me, or about somebody saying that, well, he doesn’t feel that discriminated as a knitter since the whole fashion industry is dominated by men anyway (While most of the editors and designers are women, heads of publishing houses are obviously mostly men which doesn’t surprise me at all though it should.) – anyway, it isn’t about all that – it is about the feeling that I have of not fitting in at all. You know, in real life.

While I spend most of my time sitting in my house, often in front of the computer, I do meet people on a daily basis. And on a daily basis I am confronted with people, their actions and their ideas, and am startled at how different they are from me. And every single one of them assumes that I’m just like them!

Today alone I talked to somebody who told me – like everybody does – why it’s so nice to use your car when going on vacation, and how safe, and cozy it is, and how independent you are. While I thought of traffic jams, not being able to move around for hours, having to stop traveling for going to the toilet, and having to concentrate and take care for hours on end. And, I’m sorry to tell you, driving is not the safest way to travel. I’m very proud of me because I didn’t give her the “Why air travel is bad for the earth and should be avoided as much as possible”-speech. Or the “Why all this driving around will come back to haunt us in the end, is bad for the earth, and should be avoided as much as possible”-speech.

Then somebody phoned my husband with an unnecessary and dumb request for help assuming that we, of course, would spend today “preparing for tomorrow”. What’s tomorrow? Tomorrow’s Labor Day, and of course, right now everybody is running around like a chicken with its head cut off because they have to, I don’t know, run errands or something. For my husband and me today is Wednesday, the day where we teach a lot, and I had to re-arrange my whole schedule to pick up my son from kindergarten because my mother-in-law is on vacation. It’s also a nice sunny day. Nobody here in the house will starve because shops are closed tomorrow.

Then I went to the tea shop and had the “It’s nice that your son stays in kindergarten a year longer because then he’ll have an additional year to be a child.”-conversation. What? Here I am thinking that school is part of childhood, that learning is fun, and that responsibility is something children crave. Silly me. Everybody else knows that school is only hardship and marks the end of everything good in your life.

And in a way I can’t blame people because from where I stand they are right and their lives don’t look very attractive to me.

All this really happened today. I didn’t put it here to get a better post. And all these things leave me with the feeling of living among strangers and not fitting in. And you might think that if only I were with other musicians I’d feel better but they are full of assumptions too. And most of those don’t fit me either. So even if I’m going to an improvisation workshop tomorrow I don’t really hope for the feeling of being among my tribe.

It’s surely me, I never felt like I fitted in anywhere. Not with the children I grew up with, not with my family, not in school, nada. These days I’m very happy if I find people who understand even a tiny part of my life. Writers to talk about writing with, knitters to talk about knitting with, bloggers to talk about blogging with (well, and a few other things but that would so totally ruin this sentence), and my husband to talk about everything else with.

My husband, like me, is somebody who feels like he never fits in, and I’m very very happy to have him because otherwise I’d feel like I were nuts while the whole word is sane. But the funny thing is that my husband and I are wildly different. And have problems understanding each other. But at least none of us assumes that everybody else is just exactly like we are. (And I’ll just use this sliver of an opportunity to say that we just had our 13th wedding anniversary on Monday and that I felt it was an occasion worth celebrating.)

So you might think that I’m of course feeling out of place all the time because I’m concentrating on the differences so much. No, I don’t. For decades I went into every social situation with a feeling of happy anticipation, I was curious about people, I tried to be like everybody else, I really tried hard, I kept looking up and down, met a lot of people, and tried to look under the surface. And every single time I was greeted with remarks that left me totally startled and confused. And so I find that I’m faring better when assuming that something like this will happen eventually. That I might have to make myself comfortable as much as I can in a square hole.

Also, you might think that this is a mighty whiny post, and you’re right and so I’ll leave you with a nice little picture of something orange that’s totally unrelated to everything I wrote before:

It’s the Mystic LIghts shawl. I love the pattern, I loved knitting it, the whole knit-along was a very pleasant experience, and I’ll surely love wearing it.

And you might want to check out the collaboration between my husband and my son…

Creativity when having children

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I just bought a new book.

I know, how unusual, and I even read it, and read it with much pleasure. It’s called “the creative family” by Amanda Blake Soule and with that title of course I had to have it. Also I love Amanda’s blog, I find it very soothing and positive and inspirational and it’s the same with the book. So before you read anything else you have to keep in mind that I really love the book, am about to read it for the second time in a row and just went out to get embroidery supplies to embroider some of my son’s drawing onto cloth even though I never liked embroidery before. I will make quite a few of her projects and am looking forward to do some “family drawing time” in the future. There was only one thing in the whole book that didn’t sit right with me and that started with the following paragraph from the introduction:

Given the creative nature of children, it is no coincidence that so many of us are led to seek a more creative life in their presence. Either an old creative passion or pursuit that has been forgotten is internally churned up, or we suddenly feel a need for something else in our lives when we’ve never considered ourselves creative before. Being around even the youngest children – and the purity of their rich creative energy – brings out our need for that same innovative spirit. They inspire us not only to nurture and embrace all of who they are, but to nurture and embrace our own creative selves as well.

(from “The Creative Family”, p. 2)

I know that my situation before having a child was quite different from hers in that I already was an artist then. I wasn’t exactly lacking imagination or creative spirit, only energy and sometimes time to make music, or write, or craft. Then I got pregnant and tired all the time and tried to record vocals for my husband’s CD while being out of breath, tried to help him mix the CD while being extremely sensitive to loud noises (and music), then had a baby, and was even more tired all the time while trying to parent, teach, and still make music on the side while helping my husband with his next CD, recording vocals during naptime, and once with a baby on my hip (oh no, on his hip, but in the same room, and it even kept quiet). So, while I always encourage people to be creative and while I have even written a series of posts about how to be creative when you don’t have the time, resources, or space for it there are several things about having children that don’t foster creativity for me.

Before I dive into list-making though I have to tell you that I really love my son and really think that he makes my life richer. He is a very creative and imaginative person. He’s fun to be with. So this is not about him, it’s about the daily things that come with having children.

  1. I’m tired. When I’m tired my body wants me to sleep, or eat and rest, not to spend energy making art.
  2. I have much less time than when I didn’t have a child even though I teach less. I have to spend a lot of time caring for my son or attending to household chores that didn’t exist before. For example ever since I returned from the hospital after his birth our laundry has been triple the amount than before.
  3. I’m being interrupted constantly. It’s much harder to find time to hear myself think.
  4. After talking with him for more than ten minutes I feel as if my brain is dripping out of my ears. Now, don’t get me wrong, he is an intelligent and entertaining human being, it’s only that after being talked at for an hour about robots, or building a submarine in the backyard, or going to the moon with his stuffed bunny in a LEGO rocket I usually need about thirty minutes of quiet time on my own to feel like I have any mental capacity at all.
  5. There is so much more organizational detail to attend to that my mind gets constantly drawn towards things like bringing money to kindergarten for the field trip, organizing baby sitting, searching for his rain pants, remembering that he had his rain pants with him when he went to that birthday party three weeks ago, asking the mother of his friend where his rain pants are, searching again because that other mother said her husband had dropped the pants off at our place, remembering while her husband might be sure that he did that I haven’t set eyes on the pants since my son left for the birthday party, making a note on my to-do-list to buy new rain pants at the second hand store, actual remember the rain pants when I’m near the store, go in, look for pants in his size, not finding any, make another note for another day, finally after three attempts get new rain pants, only to have him lose them at kindergarten the following week, start over. – And that was only one thing. And one child.
  6. Did I mention that I’m tired? Before I had a child when I stayed up late I just slept in the next day and restored my energy. Nowadays if I stay up late I have to pay for it for three days straight.

These things don’t make being creative impossible but it’s much harder. Even on weekends there is never a feeling of “open end”. Creativity has to be pressed into whatever slice of time is available. And for me that is partly the reason that most of my creativity these days comes out in knitting and blog posts, and there are no new songs written by me. That’s not to say that I can’t be creative with my son around but I have to say that I find it hard.

And I have found that there are different degrees of creativity for me. Things like knitting or sewing other people’s patterns, while fun, don’t fulfill my creative urge adequately (and neither would designing my own patterns, I tried). Writing blog posts is okay but writing fiction is better. Practicing guitar and playing other people’s songs is okay, improvising is better, and writing my own songs is best. But writing my own songs or writing fiction is neither “fun” nor relaxing for me. It’s hard and takes a lot of energy. I tried to find a way to make this easier but even when everything flows perfectly afterwards I feel like I have climbed a hill. And also my mind is entirely elsewhere. My son doesn’t like this. Nobody likes it when his mother has this far-away look on her face and doesn’t really pay attention.

The creativity Amanda talks about in her book is mostly the crafting type. And in the book there are mostly projects you can do with your children, which I love. But that’s just it. I can sit next to my son and knit, even while he plays or draws or even knits himself. (I’m so proud of him, he has knitted all of two rows on a scarf for his teddy bear. Of course after that he lost interest again.) Sometimes, very rarely, I’ll even play the guitar a little or sing while he’s with me but I can’t do more than that. Creating art requires your full attention and your child does too. Which is why even Amanda does most of her book writing and serious embroidery and sewing at night after her children have gone to bed.

Please understand that I am not saying anything against her or her book, in fact I strongly recommend buying it, it is lovely and very inspirational. That paragraph I quoted was only the starting point for me to say something that has been on my mind for a long time (and on my husband’s even longer). I find that I am not alone in this. I see a lot of musicians who used to practice for hours every day spending their evenings slumping in front of TV these days because they feel too brain dead after a day with their children. I also see people picking up something new through their children’s activities like the mother who started playing the guitar when her daughter didn’t want to any longer and who is now learning something she always wanted.

So, what’s your experience? Are you more creative or less since you’ve had children? (Of course, comments are open for people without children too…

Yarn Expedition

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Last Friday I did two things I’ve never done before, I went on a little trip just to buy yarn, and I met some people whom I only knew through there blogs before. I have an excuse though. A) I don’t get out much, and b) it was Wollmeise-yarn. Claudia, the Wollmeise, has become increasingly famous for her beautiful, colorful hand-dyed yarn. When she updates her online shops these days, it takes about 30 seconds for everything to become sold out again. So when I heard that she would be at a market nearby I immediately decided to go.

Since I didn’t know the place where the market was supposed to be, at first I thought we’d have to take the car and make a family day trip out of it but further research showed me that getting there was actually quite easy. I only had to get on the train that passes the nearest train station and stay in there for about 50 minutes. Then I found out through ravelry, the knitting and crochet community, that of course there were a lot of people planning to go there, and i figured it’d be best to go there right when the market opened.

So I dropped off my son at kindergarten, for once wearing makeup and carrying my enormous purse with my knitting and something to read and such, and got on the train. I had posted on ravelry which train I planned taking and there had been a couple of other people saying they would be on the same train, so I sat in the first car, knitting, so that they could find me.

That didn’t work out though. At one station suddenly the train was turned around. The first car became the last. Just before leaving the train though I spotted Elemmaciltur, Mrs. B, and needlegnome (That last one is link to a ravelry profile. You have to be a member to be able to see that but she doesn’t have a public blog.) We went to the market together.

I’m not meeting many knitter in real life and so I found it quite refreshing to hear things like, “Is that the Kaffe Fasset-yarn in your scarf?”. Also it got me so confused that I answered yes before realizing that the Kaffe Fasset-yarn actually was in my purse instead of around my neck, and that probably nobody there possessed x-ray vision. I also did that confusing thing where I talk English a lot, and then with different people keep switching between English and German until I need a few seconds to answer to anything because I first have to make clear which language I’m currently hearing.

The market was very nice but of course we made a beeline to the Wollmeise’s booth first. I had prayed beforehand that it would be a pleasurable experience for me, and it was. Though right after we arrived all hell broke lose. I went in with a vague idea of wanting about four skeins of sock yarn, preferable oranges and reds with at least one skein of something turquoise like Pfefferminz Prinz for my husband, and at best two skeins of lace yarn, preferable something earthy, and something orange or red. When I went in the lace yarn was invisible under all the people so I just grabbed one delightful skein of sock yarn after the other, then when there was a slight opening at the lace yarn basket, dived in, pulled out the two reddest skeins I saw, decided that I didn’t like the other colors that much, found a salesperson, paid, and waited in front of the booth, the paper bag with my yarn firmly clasped to my bosom until everybody else was finished.

wollmeise sock yarn

I had ample opportunity to see that not all shoppers are as decisive as me. I saw one woman agonizing over a skein of lace yarn for about half an hour. She put it next to herself and looked in the mirror, she asked a friend and two other people for advice, she thought about whether it would be enough or not… I saw people going in there with a list as long as my arm, people who had to get something like 20 skeins for other people. I can tell you, I was very happy to be standing a bit apart from this. Well, I could have had a list too, you know, in fact I did have a list. I told one woman whom I met on ravelry that I would bring her something, if possible. She told me her favorite colors, and I was happy to have found something she’ll like.

wollmeise sock yarn

After that we wandered around the rest of the market, I bought a marble for my husband, had waffles, and then after hitting the booth a second time (not me) we went home.

It was an interesting experience to meet people whose podcast I have been listening to and blogs I have been reading for months. Mrs. B started to tell me about the spinning wheel she borrowed and I already knew it. I felt a bit like a stalker. Especially since none of them reads my blog.

I’d love to meet knitters more often but then I’m already doing too many things as it is. The only meetings I could manage to attend would be on Sundays and that’s family time.

The very best thing for me though was that I found out that there is such a thing as enough talk about knitting (and spinning) for me. When I came home on Friday hungry and thirsty, and my husband had prepared a lovely meal, and I then started to teach again I was so happy to making music again! I had feared that my longing for knitter talk were bottomless. With the people I know I usually talk about knitting until their eyes start to glaze over and then I try to stop. But there I met people who are willing to talk about fiber and such for hours on end without getting tired of it. And that eventually I was ready to talk about other things again. You know, like other people.

Busy, busy, busy

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You might want to know what happened to me after my regular posting about two weeks ago. Well, spring break was over. It seems that teaching makes it harder to blog and read. Also I spent several mornings at the dentist (almost done), my son was sick, again, for three days, we had friends over, and daylight savings time started.

I also spent almost a week procrastinating writing the assignment for my writer’s group. In the end I decided to write it anyway and after several people have told me that it’s not as bad as I thought I put it up at abctales, it’s called “The Man I Love” which is an actual song. (If you click on the link you can read it. Actual fiction that I wrote. Making it a love story was not my idea, by the way. It was the idea of a person who shall not be named. Well, he will have to write a story about loneliness until the next month, so I guess we’re even. Only I will have to write another story too.)

Of course, everything will change through this week, and I’ll have loads of time to blog, and make music, and such.

I know, very funny.

But then, I’ll probably get my own “connect the microphone to the computer for recording”-device within the week. And De said I should post some music.

And hope springs eternal.

March Just Posts

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justpostmar2008

Time for the Just Post Roundtables again! For those of you new to this this is a monthly thing where Mad, Jen, Hel, and I collect links to posts about social justice. Everybody can send links to posts written by others or themselves, and then we end up with a nice list of interesting posts.

Did you realize that it has been three months since the baby shower? Back then we wanted to do a little more than just write about social justice and so a couple of us decided to take action towards social justice too. How has it been going for you? Were your commitments doable? Fun?

I still feel like I should be doing more but that’s a feeling very familiar to me, and applicable to all aspects of my life so I just tell that nagging little voice to shut up. And go on knitting tiny socks. (I committed to knit at least one pair of preemie socks every month for Frühchenstricken.)

Even small actions do make a difference. Really. So here’s the roundtable list for you:

Beth with Have you gotten greener?
Beyond the fields we know with Thursday Poem – Testimony
Bob Dylan with Arbor Day
bon with In Praise of Universal Health Care
Carrie with People are people
Chicky Chicky Baby with Both ends of the spectrum of animal abuse
Daisy with Stranger than fiction, my job is, Teddy bear, teddy bear and Politics as usual – or not
Fretful with Sense of pride
Gary in Thailand with Free Tibet
Gina with Three trillion dollars, four thousand dead, five years, one man and Not your sweetie
Girlgriot with Believing the hype
Heart in San Francisco with What art is not
Jen with My sad lament and Unhappy Anniversary
Julie Pippert with The United States: it’s okay, it’s an easy mistake to make
Kelly with Anti-poverty protesters shut down city council meeting
Kevin Charnas with Running to save
Kevin at Life has Taught Us with Olympic Spirit and Is this the Olympic Spirit?
Kyla with What would you say? and The Interview and Where I’m Not
Lost White Kenyan Chick with Food for thought for International Women’s Day
Maithri with Beyond borders
Mary with Five years forward, a thousand years back
Mir Kamin on BlogHer with Attention 8-Year-Olds: You Should Be Pampered, Primped, and Hairless
Mother-Woman with Where Was I?
No Caption Needed with The silent costs of war
Pixiedust with Great-full Friday: Community
Reluctant Housewife with My Gayest Look
Sandra with I am not an aboriginal woman
Superlagirl with The drymouth will fade, but the involuntary movements are yours to keep forever
Susanna’s sketchbook with We can do it
Susanne with Body image, or Would you recognize your own belly button?
Suzanne Reisman on BlogHer with Legalize Prostitution
The Expatriate’s Kitchen with Is it just me
The Elementary with Everything we have , One for the road and No man is an island
WhyMommy with One regret

Some of the Just Readers
Christine
Anne
Chani
Jess
Mary
Alejna

Please check out what Mad, Jen, and Hel, are saying this month too. Thank you all for participating by writing, and reading.

Insert strong swear-word here

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Today I was reminded why I’m not recording much. For months now I have been wanting to record at least some improvisations. Today was the day. Because my husband left the house for more than half an hour (which he rarely does). The recording equipment was to be mine.

So. I had lunch, and dessert, and checked e-mail, and read blogs, and then, finally, shoved myself in front of my husband’s big computer with the mixer and everything. I searched for my microphone. I looked for a suitable cable. I looked at the mixer. I pulled one cable out of the mixer and inserted mine. I pushed the little button that sends power to my mike. I opened the software. I was very careful not to change anything that my husband had recorded. I tested the mike. I had no signal. The mixer seemed dead. Ah, there was yet another switch to switch. The mixer showed a green light. Green is good. I tested my mike – no sound. I tried three or four things. Nope. I closed the software and decided to use the smaller, and simpler recording software. I already have worked with this a couple of times on my own. Opened software. Tested mike. Changed preferences. Tested mike. Still nothing. Closed software, disconnected cable, put mike back in box, shut off computer.

Right now I’m very, very frustrated. What I want is my own mixer preferably a small one because I don’t need more than two inputs at once. You might ask why I don’t just ask my husband to help me. He is very good with this equipment thing. And I would be too if I used it more often. But strangely enough I can’t seem to bring myself to ask him. I have to be all alone and by myself to record something. The recording equipment is in his room where he basically does everything that doesn’t involve sleeping, eating or a bathroom. To shut him out is a big thing. And what if I didn’t have anything to show for it later?

I find it hard enough to work on my music in my room when anybody is in the house. I’d like to be able to do recording on impulse. And I can. I have actually recorded vocals through my computer’s built-in microphone. They sound like something recorded over the telephone though.

The reason I find writing easier to fit into my life than music is that music needs a bigger chunk of time. While I can jot down a few sentences and not lose the idea for a blog post, creating music seems to require a certain feeling of free time, of being able to go back and forth, doing something else in between, coming back, trying again. Half an hour of songwriting might mean one hour of playing, and on hour of just sitting there, and staring at the wall.

No wonder that I am drawn that much to knitting these days. Two hours of knitting are two hours of knitting. In the lace stole I’m currently making that would be about 40 rows, or 12 cm of stole. When I’m knitting, even two hours of waiting, riding the train, talking with someone, or watching TV are two hours of knitting. It is as if time magically multiplied itself.

With blogging two hours of writing is one or two posts. With writing songs two hours of song writing might result in having tried a few notes, having crossed out lyrics I wrote some time before, and a bad taste in my mouth.

So I thought improvising might be the thing. But improvising just for myself seems pointless. I’d like to record some things and try overdubbing and such but that comes back down to equipment.

I have to find a solution for this. For now I’ll go off and practice guitar for a while so that I stay ahead of my students.

(Actually, I wrote this ten days ago… Since then my husband has shown me what I did wrong. As soon as he isn’t madly recording music for once I’ll try again.)