Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Timbuk2 + Ashira = minutes to pass



I'm pretty excited about this one.

Money from the sales of the bags goes to the Bicycle Messenger Emergency Fund, and I really learned so much during the process of making these.

I always thought I hated painting, that I'm super uncomfortable with it, that the commitment of putting a mark on a blank space is overwhelming and difficult for me to get right. But with this project I had no choice but to paint. I mean, I guess I did have a choice and I chose to paint. And I guess I've been painting for a while now that I think about it, considering spray cans/stencils/andotherthingsI'vedoneovertheyears. It's just that a brush never felt right in my hands; always uncomfortable. But sitting for hours and hours and hours on the floor of my room, or downstairs on the porch couch, with a brush, dish of water and some little plastic salsa containers (swiped from El Pollo Loco and) filled with paint, somehow the brush got more comfortable and I just started to enjoy putting color and slick wet on a blank surface.

You know how certain moments in your life play over and over again in your head? How sometimes they're these giant events that stick in your brain, but other times they're just these few seconds of existance shared with other people that seem to common thread through the years?

When I lived downstairs from the Chicken Hut, at El Paradiseo/Guido's Paradise, I was up late one night (as usual) and heard a ruckus upstairs, like people screaming and banging and yelling. That wasn't too unusual, but I was curious and besides, I wanted to hang out for a minute anyways. I took the freight elevator upstairs and found B and J yelling at the world, each other, and no one at all.

"I DON'T WANNA PAINT" B screamed at the top of her lungs.

"MMMMMMM PAINTING IS SOOOOOO GOOD!!!" J yelled back calmly.

"AAAAAARRRGHH! I DON'T WANNA PAINT" B screamed in frustration of a painting assignment.

"BUT IT'S SOOOOO GOOD!! PAINTING IS SOOOOOO GOOOOOD!!" J yelled laughing, paintbrush stuck between his fingertips.

I hung out for a few minutes and then went downstairs to my bed to sleep. I think J was really happy painting. And he was always painting whereever and whenever he could. Literally.

There were other things I felt like that about, but definitely not painting. I didn't paint often and when I did, I was impatient with it, and I couldn't get my head or hands around it. It bothered me.

This bag project broke that. All of a sudden, I slowly got happy painting. I got happy sitting, hanging out with people or just by myself, feeling the brush in my hand, finding the right one and figuring out the right way to use it, how much paint to allow the tip, and where I wanted my lines to start and end. It all happened pretty organically, but now I'm really glad for painting.

Sewing by machine came a little different.

I think the glass work that I was doing last year, combined with past collage and book making projects, played a part in the way I was making the bags. I kept cutting pieces and pinning them together, trying to figure it out. I was planning on stiching the pieces on by hand, which was potentially feasable, except I definitely didn't have enough time. I originally thought that since I hand stitch Smocks, these wouldn't be so bad. Yeah right.

I had my Mom's sewing machine but I was scared of it. Everytime I tried to use it, the thread got all jammed up and tangled inside. Despite my attempts at figuring it out, it mostly just sat in my room for the better part of the year, untouched and collecting dust. Other people had been able to use it from time to time. A friend of mine once came over and hemmed his pants for a wedding he was going to, but I stayed away from it.

The bags were in need so I frantically called my friend K, a master sewer/designer/amazingperson, and left a hyper/sing-songy/sorta lightly (I hope only lightly and not heavily) frantic message about helping me machine sew. She called me back and we planned for me to go to her house. In the mess of my exaustion and running latedness, I was - well - late, but she was able to both set me on the right sewing direction by sewing the pieces on one of the bags most superbly, and helping me find more sewing help for the next day. We called another master sewer, J, who agreed to lend sewing skills to the bag cause. We made plans to meet. I was late again. Twice. J came over early afternoon and I was still piecing bags together. But she checked out my machine and showed me that it was working all right and probably wouldn't eat me. She also showed me how to thread it. Very important skill. Especially when the manual goes from step 'A' to step 'D' completely skipping steps 'B' and 'C'.

I went to J's house later that evening and she was able to help me with 3 bags before it got insanely late to be keeping her up. At this point I had worked all day Fri, worked all night Fri, slept for 3 hours Sat morn, worked all day and all night Sat and all day Sun. It was now Sun night. I worked until 3:30am and while I slept, my new baby nephew entered this world. I went to meet him for the first time and caught his first smile, and his first shit. And I fell in love holding him tiny and sleeping in my arms.

Back to the bags I left, went home and knew they had to be mailed out in a few short hours. I was determined. I turned the machine on, and got the test strip I had pulled out for J the day before. It seemed to work so I started to sew the medium bag that needed to still be finished. I was sewing nervously, and waiting for the thread to jam but still I was sewing. It worked. The thread broke and I managed to re-thread it the way I saw J do it and I continued to sew. It was so awesome to watch the thread fix the pieces onto the bag but then the needle broke. I had more needles but I had left them at J's house the night before and there wasn't time to go and get them and make it to Fed Ex by 6pm. So now I was screwed. I asked my roommate if she had any but she hadn't sewn since her own machine broke and she didn't have any needles. I called another roommate who I thought might have needles. She didn't have any but she suggested I go to Matrushka, a shop up the street. Matrushka is a wonderful and beautiful clothing shop with all handmade clothing. They sew stuff in the store and rumor has it they will alter clothes for you while you wait. A while back, in the summer, they hosted a BICYCLE POWERED Build Your Own T-Shirt night. It was so cool.

I ran - literally ran - the two blocks over to Matrushka and burst in the door. "This is gonna sound nuts," I began "but I'm working on this project and I'm sewing and my needle broke and I can't get another needle before I have to send it in 30 minutes -" I took a deep breath into my panicked lungs. "Might you have a needle I could buy or borrow or beg from you?" I looked at her. Dark hair and sort of startled I think, or maybe amused - I couldn't tell. But she took me seriously and went to hand me a needle. "Wait - is it an industrial machine? What kind of needle does it take?" Oh man - "I don't know - it's a regular machine, not industrial, and I don't know anything about sewing." My heart sank as she told me about the round headed needles that she had for the industrial machine on the table in between us, and the needles that I probably needed which were flat on one side. "Well here - take this needle and this one." She handed me two needles after putting them in a plastic needle case. "If it doesn't fit - which I'm pretty sure it won't," she said calmly "you can usually make it work." I thanked her profusely and hurried back to my house. Back at my machine I saw what she meant about the flat edge, but I fit the needle in and carefully continued to finish sewing the rest of the bag.

I picked up my needles from J's house on my way home from Fed Ex and started on the last, and late, bag. All of a sudden it made sense. The thread was getting jammed because I hadn't been threading it right. It actually works when it's threaded right and I can simple sew! I am so excited to be sewing.

Anyways - you can find 'process shots' here. And more info about the show/sale here.



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