Two years ago, I listened to a wonderful interview with Roxane Gay and Debbie Millmann on Brené Brown’s podcast Unlocking Us. One particular part of their conversation stuck with me.
Brené brings up a quote, which she says is too long to read in its entirety. She reads them only its last line: “Art is not meant to be created in stolen moments only.” Here is the full quote:
“I've seen women insist on cleaning everything in the house before they could sit down to write... and you know it's a funny thing about housecleaning... it never comes to an end. Perfect way to stop a woman. A woman must be careful to not allow over-responsibility (or over-respectability) to steal her necessary creative rests, riffs, and raptures. She simply must put her foot down and say no to half of what she believes she ‘should’ be doing. Art is not meant to be created in stolen moments only.”
— Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves
Brené goes on to ask Roxane and Debbie if they feel like they have to make their art in stolen moments. Roxane confirms that indeed she does, and that she wishes that weren’t the case. I think this broke my heart a little. Even Roxane Gay?! I found a 2019 essay in which she had, prior to the podcast, written about writing in “pockets of stolen time” on planes, in airport lounges, in hotel lobbies, in green rooms while waiting to go on stage.
I’m thinking about this now because I’ve (re)started sewing in stolen moments. And now that I have, it feels like the only way forward.
I used to do this when I was working on my calendar series, for which I created a small square drawing of some sort (many of them were stitched) every single day, then sewed the squares together at the end of the month. I would bring these squares with me everywhere I went because I had to make one every day. When I first started the project I was still working full-time at SSENSE, so I’d be up stitching till 2 am, stealing hours of sleep from myself.
I try as hard as I can not to steal sleeping hours anymore. But I’ve been stitching on the metro, on the bus, while waiting for a late English student to sign on to our video call, in a park along the St. Lawrence River, in the bedroom while talking on the phone.
Why did I restart this practice?
A couple things happened. For one, I started witnessing other people doing it. My friend Ali came to visit from Toronto and pulled a stitching project out of their backpack. Laurel Rennie, whose work moved me to tears at Artch this year, was stitching in between chats with visitors to her booth. And then I came across the Milwaukee-based quilt artist Heidi Parkes, and connected so much with her work that I signed up for her Diary Quilt class this month. I noticed from her IG that she sews on the go. In fact, a significant amount of time in our first class last Sunday was spent discussing strategies for travelling with a sewing project, such as scale rules to set for yourself so you don’t end up elbowing your seat mates, how much fabric to bring, what to safely pack your supplies in, and how to cut your thread if you’re not allowed to bring scissors (nail clippers).
The other thing that happened was that, following the wise suggestion of my friend Alex, I decided to latch a daily making habit onto my so far consistent daily journalling habit. I liked this idea because it meant I’d be actively engaging with my practice even on the days when I couldn’t make it to the studio. I started journalling one page a day on Monday, August 7th of this year, so Alex and I talked about adding one page of drawing to the one page of journalling. I tried that for a little while, making pen and pastel drawings in my sketchbook of my new Frida Kahlo jigsaw puzzle box, a flower in Jarry Park, my living room desk as Ali and I watched The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart.
While I believe drawing is important and that I should do it more often, I realized that my progress would be better served by stitching daily. I mean, stitching is still drawing in the end.
I set up a new system wherein I spend the first bit of time in the studio prepping my textile projects for their next step(s). Choosing shapes, fabrics, thread, technique, composition. Then I fold them up into little rectangles, or stretch them onto an embroidery hoop, and put them in my bag to work on between now and my next studio session. I spend the rest of the time in the studio working on my paintings.
The system is working well to ensure I’m consistently touching the textile projects I’m working on, even when other projects are happening simultaneously, like the series of acrylic paintings, this newsletter, website overhauling, etc. I’m so grateful that my stolen moments are in addition to my dedicated studio time. I identify with Clarissa Pinkola Estés’s quote in that I’m not sure I’d be able to create this work in stolen moments only. I need the studio time to anchor it, sit with it, experiment, and decide what stitching will be executed between this visit and the next. Arriving at the studio and ironing the work I did between sessions feels like an exciting treat. It’s such a gift that the medium I’m the most drawn to is relatively convenient, portable, and easily incorporated into my daily movements.
What is the thing you have to do every day or else you don’t feel totally like yourself? Do you need to “steal” time to do it, or is there a neat time block for it in your schedule?
Fuel (4 sources of energy):
The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin. In my last letter I wrote about what this book taught me about setting deadlines. I described it to Alex as a more woo-woo version of Jerry Saltz’s How to Be an Artist. Short chapters, easy to read, and some valuable takeaways.
Bob The Drag Queen: Woke Man in a Dress. The queen of the people put her new comedy special on YouTube for us to watch for free.
Michael Dumontier (@stoppingoffplace) brought me right back to my childhood with this image from Angela Banner’s 1966 children’s book Ant and Bee and the ABC. An old favourite that I used to read with my grandparents.
My friend Nick Tran walked the Chopova Lowena show at London Fashion Week and made a photo diary of his experience for Harper’s Bazaar (!!!!!)
“We’re not playing to win. We’re playing to play.”
— Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being
Paid subscribers, please find an image gallery of recent progress on my painting series below. Everyone else, thanks so much for reading, and take care.
xx Clara
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