Historic Fibers

Exit

The third dissertation adviser signed. It's all over but the paperwork. I'm a bit stunned.

Here is a photograph that was on my desktop for much of the last couple of years:

This is a picture of the History Department. Notice how airless and sterile it is, how lacking in color. That's pretty much how the past several years have felt. But the thing about this photograph that I liked is that the only real color is the big red exit sign, and the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm at the end of the hallway, ready to open the doors and get out of there, and it feels pretty good. How good?

Well, this is the photograph on my desktop right now:

THAT good! Thanks to everyone for their support and encouragement through this long process.

Back to Life

There has been movement on the dissertation front, and I haven't really wanted to talk about it much because I'm afraid of tempting fate and having the whole thing blow up on me. But in a nutshell, I submitted my revisions and two of my three advisers have signed off. I'm just waiting for the third to give me her undivided attention long enough to ask for changes or sign the silly thing.

All of the stress surrounding this manuscript that has been building up for the past several years has manifested itself by making me ill, and I've spent much of the past month being sick. Considering I almost never get sick, I haven't had much practice and I'm really bad at it. The latest round (the flu) is just about over (thank goodness) and it's just a matter of building up strength again. Giving a 90 minute history lecture requires a 3-hour nap afterwards, which is necessary but tedious. Hopefully this week will be better.

Anyway, with the dissertation and the stress and the sick, I have been extremely remiss in reporting on my adventures at Lambtown, where I proved definitively that I can teach 8 people who have never made felt before to produce a wearable beret in just 3 hours. Here is evidence:

Half of the class was camera shy, but trust me, the others did some outstanding work as well. It was a lot of fun, and I would absolutely do it again. I hope the students want to do it again too, because there was some serious talent there.

Most of my Lambtown experience revolved around setting up for class, bouncing around the room for 3 hours giving encouragement and advice, and then packing up my stuff and collapsing in a corner, but I did get to see some friends and had a nice visit with several people I hadn't seen in a while. All in all, a good day, and one I hope to replicate in the future, as soon as I've come completely back to life.

The Brave Hat

I've been horrendously busy lately, and will likely continue to be so for a little while longer. Nevertheless, I heard a story about one of my hats today that I wanted to tell.

I went and visited a friend over the weekend, and this particular friend is the owner of the Peacock Hat that I made for the group show last April. Here is the hat in question:

When she acquired the hat, we talked about the concept of a "brave hat" that was popular during the Great Depression. Women, who regularly wore hats back then, spent time and precious money buying or constructing especially fetching hats as a way to help them through the horrors of that particular time. And my friend, who was going through a difficult time, declared that the Peacock Hat would be her brave hat.

A few months later, her mother-in-law was diagnosed with breast cancer and went through a taxing course of chemotherapy. She lost her hair in the process, and my friend took the brave hat to her. Her mother-in-law has the hat on display where she can see it all the time, and told my friend the other day that the hat gives her strength when she feels like giving up.

I'm so honored and humbled that something I made has touched someone so profoundly that I'm speechless. Here's to brave hats for everyone.