lessons learned

Rather than give away Dorothy’s entire syllabus, I think will conclude this class notes series with her blind stitching exercise. This is not sewing nearly, or wholly, invisible stitches but rather sewing while blindfolded.

The supply list asked for a piece of fabric 4 inches by about 36 inches, “any color.” We were all very thoughtful about the colors we chose. We needn’t have been, this fabric was the blindfold.
Tee-hee-hee.
Before beginning, we layered two pieces of fabric together and threaded five needles. Then we gathered at the main table, put on the blindfolds, and had at it. During the exercise, one woman pulled the thread from her needle and called out to Dorothy for help rethreading it.

If any exercise were constructed to promote randomness, surely this is it. But no. In discussion afterward, several people talked about their impulse toward order despite sightlessness and said they used the edge of the fabric as a guide or that they felt for spaces without stitching to fill with stitching. I was disappointed in my result. I’ve been embroidering for so long that the stitching came out fairly straight, flat (no puckering), and even, just from habit:

white kantha stitching, red-orange basting

I’m having better success at home, sewing sighted but not looking at the fabric, and checking from time to time to ensure something like randomness:

blind-stitched scroll (in progress),
prompted by a collaboration between
Terry Jarrard-Dimond and Kathy Loomis


 In class, after the exercise, Dorothy showed us a sample from another class for which the students had added deliberate red kantha stitching to their blind white kantha stitching and assembled the pieces into a large sampler:

 
And it seemed to me that this exercise has at least as much to say about living as it does about sewing. Gather your supplies. Prepare your materials. Keep it somewhat simple. Meet with your tribe. Do the work. When you lose your thread, ask for help. Accept help. Begin again. Review what you’ve done. Learn from one another. Celebrate each person’s effort, contribution, and accomplishment. Carry the learning into the larger world. It’s not too bad a philosophy to spring from a random four inches of cloth, and one very remarkable, not at all random, teacher.

Dorothy creating a freize of our fingerpainted panels.