This past weekend, I finished my first kumihimo beaded bracelet and started a new one.
You can see the finished bracelet in the picture above. What you can’t see is how close that bracelet came to never existing. When I wrote about beading last week, that beaded piece was about three inches long (the finished coil is seven inches) and I knew it had flaws. By the time I was done, there were a few more errors. And the bracelet was too long because an unclear element in the instructions led me to use too many beads. I have fairly small wrists, so after I attached the findings (fasteners), the bracelet slide right over my hand.
So I thought “Why not just cut it up, salvage the parts, and start over? You’ve learned a lot about doing kumihimo from this. Now you can make one that’s the right length has fewer errors.”
And another part of me said, “This is the first time you’ve done one of these. It’s not as if you plan to sell it or enter it in a competition. No one but you is probably ever going to notice the errors. As for the length, you can work with that. Get rid of the findings that came with the kit, and see if you have any smaller ones.”
That’s what I did. One advantage of having done beading for so many years is I have an extensive kit of findings. I also know what options are available. The faster I eventually used was a magnetic clasp scavenged from a different bracelet that I’d meant to repair for years. That bracelet was a little snug (which is why it had broken), so I put a new set of findings on it.
Tah-dah! Now, not only do I have my very first kumihimo project to wear and enjoy – flaws and all – I finally fixed the other bracelet.
While I was sorting through my kit, I found myself thinking about how easy it is when focusing on what you hope to achieve to forget the pleasure of the process. Another project I’m involved with right now is a brand new SF/F magazine called DreamForge. Will it be a success? I certainly hope so. I certainly believe it should be. However, whatever the future brings, nothing will ever take away the pleasure that Scot and Jane Noel, me, art director Mike Zingarelli, and a few others have had in the process.
Please take a moment to look at DreamForge’s first Table of Contents. When Scot writes about each of the pieces he selected, you can hear how thrilled he is.
My Jim makes arrowheads. (Yep. That’s one of his in the picture.) His favorite material is obsidian, which is fragile, fussy, and often has hidden flaws. But even when an arrowhead doesn’t come out just as he wanted, he keeps making new ones, not because he’s trying for perfection, but because he enjoys the process.
When following my friend Tori Hansen on Twitter, I learned about something called “Inktober,” which is basically a hashtag that encourages artists to draw one picture a day. I’ve very much enjoyed looking at various people’s offerings. To me, the focus of Inktober is on process, not perfection. Draw a picture. Post it. Leave it. Go do another. This is the opposite – at least to me – of events like NaNoWriMo, which focus so hard on the end goal (write 50,000 words in a month) that the pleasure of the process is lost. Writing becomes a race, not an art, not a craft.
My writing this last week went out of control. I wrote over twice my self-assigned length. Immersed in the process, I had a wonderful time. Will I write that much again this week? Probably not, but I’m starting this week with a strong reminder to myself that even with the writing that is my job, I can take pleasure in the process.
Oh… The new bracelet I’m working on? It’s an experiment in which I’m deliberately using slightly off-sized beads in different shades of blue in attempt to get both visual and tactile texture. So far, so good, and if it doesn’t work out, so what? I will have enjoyed giving it a try.
October 3, 2018 at 12:06 pm |
Jane, You made some great points. Learning to accept what you are doing and NOT worrying about the “perfection” is a great challenge for many of us. Accepting we are flawed is also part of the challenge of life. Thanks for the reminder. Your work, whatever it is, is nice to see or read. I’m reminded of T. Edison’s work on the lightbulb. He is reported to have tried over 1000 times before he finally was successful in the development of the bulb. We are still using it, so it was a very successful invention.
October 4, 2018 at 10:27 am |
Edison is a great example of being willing to fail to learn. I was fascinated to learn, when I read in a “kids” biography of him when I was young, how many different materials he tried for the filament alone.
October 3, 2018 at 8:02 pm |
It only just occurred to me to wonder how the heck you get the beads on the braid. I’m no beader, but I _have_ done braiding, so i have some idea just how much material went into that 7″ coil you showed us. I can’t imagine threading beads into it!
October 4, 2018 at 10:30 am |
You start with a bit over three times the amount of thread you’ll need — so I used about 20 inches. The beads are strung on the thread before beginning the braid, Then you bring them up one at a time on each strand and tuck them under the adjacent one. It’s a bit tricky but doable when you get the rhythm.
I was grateful to have read an article that said that the first dozen or so beads would look like a snarled mess, but not to worry, it would straighten out.