Wrong turns and false starts are an inherent part of making. If I'm sewing, my unpicker is never far away. I have pulled out many a row of crochet. Just yesterday, I spent a solid fifteen minutes picking away at the shafts of my loom to unweave an inch of fabric where I’d started my pattern at the wrong spot. If you don’t muck up at least once, are you even working on a project?
On Sunday, while the youngest was on a Scout hike, I began working on a paper cut piece that was supposed to be the final element of a collage/assemblage pice - a piece I was hoping to get finished and share this week. Instead, I realise after I started cutting, and got as far as the details portion, that I’d totally mucked up the scale and had made it too small in comparison to the rest of the piece.
I was beyond frustrated. This was supposed to be the element that brought everything together. It was one of the first things I sketched when I conceptualised the series. I only had a small amount of the specialty paper I was working with.
And I mucked it up.
I pushed it aside, and moved onto a different project, all the while castigating myself for my foolish error. Measure twice, cut once; a lesson I’d learned as a child and yet one I’d forgotten in the excitement of finally making a start and diving into this cut that had been languishing in my sketchbook for months.
The adventuring Cub Scout returned. We collected him and shifted into evening mode and I let go of my disappointment. Later that evening, my phone buzzed as I pottered around the kitchen, tidying up from dinner. One of the leaders was sending through some photos, and we texted back and forth a bit about the day. “We had a couple of learning turns, but the leaders got us back on the right track”.
Learning turns.
Not wrong turns. Not misdirection. Learning turns.
“I haven’t failed. I’ve just tried 10,000 ways that do not work” -Thomas Edison
Learning turns.
It was a revelation. Such a simple change of phrase completely reframing false starts and mistakes. They weren’t wrong, they were learning what doesn’t work.
Over the last four years I’ve undergone quite a few mind shifts in my creative practice. Some I stumbled on. Some I deliberately worked at. And yet this one, frustration and negative self talk when making mistakes, it’s one that’s endured.
But maybe they aren’t mistakes. They are learning turns.
Right now, I am in the depths of learning a new hobby. The learning curve is steep - I’m learning how to thread the loom, work the loom, read a pattern that is completely different to the patterns I use in my other textile crafts. It’s taking time to immerse myself in something completely new. It’s a lesson in letting go of perfectionism, of remembering I don’t need to get it exactly right straight away.
I misunderstood how the pattern worked. I rolled those two inches on. I tried a different pattern just to try to get the hang of the movements. I rolled it on. I finally got the hang of my main pattern - and then 3 inches in, bounced at the wrong spot and have an awkward miswoven line.
It was a learning turn. I kept going.
Ten inches later, I made the exact same error. With some practice under my belt, and the previous learning turn, I could see exactly what I had done wrong - and this time I knew how to fix it before I got too much further along.
With any new skill, or even with new patterns for old skills, I often find it easier on the second run through; having ripped it out once, I can now visualise what needs to happen, and then it works beautifully. It makes sense in a way written instructions don’t always (mainly because I have terrible spatial awareness and can’t always picture what needs to happen just by reading). When I started (and restarted) my original ripple blanket, I couldn’t for the life of me “see” the increase and decrease stitches. It made no sense to me. On the final restart, I added stitch markers every 14 stitches. Not only could I more easily count my starting chain, but it also meant I could line up every peak with the row below, and not fall out of step - and if I did, I realised really quickly and could correct within a single repeat.
It’s funny how I know this about me - that I sometimes need a practice run, that I work better once I’ve seen something in action - and yet continue to get frustrated at mistakes and false starts. Instead, I should be looking at them as “learning turns”, just another part of the creative process, a step towards my brain processing what is expected of it for this project. Especially as a multi-passionate maker, my muscle memory is pulled in so many ways, it should be expected that not everything is automatic immediately. That I’ll need learning turns along the way.
Two little words, that contain a whole lot of grace. It’s been a good lesson to learn this week.
ON THE CRAFT TABLE THIS WEEK
one// finish time! It was so good to get this cross stitch out of the hoop after two months, 20,000 stitches and 130 hours of work. Now to get it framed and on the craft room wall!
two// a finish makes space for a WIP - back into crochet now the weather is starting to cool down
three// before the learning turn; my papers and tools for the paper cut I spoke about above.
It’s been a mixed crafty week; days of not doing much, or half a row of crochet, or some weaving when every inch looks the same as the inches that come before it. The gram is quiet, the blog is quiet, but I’m picking away at a couple of different things. Hopefully over the weekend I can get some solid progress on lots of things, and find the words to share them as well.
If this is where we leave you, have a wonderful creative week! I’d love to know what learning turns you’re growing from this week?
For paying subscribers, lets dive into this fortnight’s action on the art table (learning and otherwise!)
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