The Crafting Tragedy
My daughter Vivian loves art. All kinds of art – painting, drawing, collaging, sculpting, it doesn’t seem to matter what kind. Maybe she likes the creation more than anything, bringing something to life that wasn’t there before.
As a mom, I hope to foster her love of making and creativity. Recently, I came across the Houston Center for Contemporary Craft and their monthly art activity open to all – paper weaving. Full disclosure, I have lived in Houston for most of my life and I had no idea we had a contemporary craft museum. A hidden treasure nestled in the museum district right near the flower market.
So, when I saw this opportunity to take Vivian to a cultural experience of craft and make art, I knew we had to go. Bonus, it is free admission, and the craft events are also free – win, win. When I told her about our Saturday morning activity, her eyes lit up and she said, “Ooh fun, ok.”
Upon arrival, we were a little early for the activity, so we took time to walk around and look at the current installations. Vivian was enthralled. She loved exploring the different textures, art pieces and even handmade jewelry for sale. After about fifteen minutes of exploration, it was time to begin the paper weaving craft, inspired by the exhibit Sonya Clark: We Are Each Other (an exhibit centered on race and the Black experience – highly recommend).
The staff had prepared the activity. There were pre-lined papers that we were to cut and weave strips of other pre-cut papers through. It seemed like a simple and yet engaging activity for a mom and a daughter to do together. Thing is, most experiences with my daughter prove not to be “simple.” She seems to have inherited her mother’s perfectionist tendencies and need for mastery. When you combine that with a highly undeveloped frontal lobe – well, tragedy tends to ensue.
About three minutes into the activity, Vivian started to get frustrated. Very frustrated. She could not effectively do the “over-under” alternating pattern to make the “weave” look right. I attempted to assist her, and she tried again. No luck. Her aura changed. She was now in fight mode, and she was determined to be victorious in her pursuit of completion. I leaned over to her and whispered softly, “Vivian we don’t have to do this, or we can take this home. I don’t want you to be stressed by this, it’s supposed to be fun.” Her entire body tensed up and shaking her head she said, “No, no, no.” I sighed and said a silent prayer for help.
I decided to raise my hand and flag down one of the nice-looking older women staffing the activity. Maybe she could help. Maybe she had some wisdom for this moment. Maybe her gentleness would ease my daughter’s frustration. She dutifully walked over, asked how we were doing, and I explained that we needed some help. The very kind woman assessed the situation and attempted to guide Vivian to a solution. Vivian became more upset. She looked at me with eyes that said, “Please make her go away mom.” So, I thanked her, and we tried again.
The woman’s instruction did not help. Vivian started to have a complete meltdown. Big tears started streaming down her face and her body melted into a defeated slump. Victory was not hers. I sighed, again. I put my head in my hands and tried to breathe deeply and not lose my mind. Everything in my body wanted to gather up all the damn paper, throw it in the trash and get the hell out of that place. Why did I think this would be fun, I asked myself?
But then I looked at my daughter’s big brown eyes looking at me with such longing. She wasn’t trying to be difficult. She wasn’t trying to drive me insane. She was completely frustrated and just wanted to finish the project. She just wanted to make some art. And in that moment, my heart melted, and I heard a little whisper – “Try something else. What else can you try?”
I looked at Vivian and said, “Hey why don’t we try this another way?” She instantly started to calm down. I suggested, ever so gently, that we cut the strips of paper into small squares and alternate them on the lines to make it look “woven.” Her little eyes lit up. She could do that. She could cut and paste. I asked her what color she wanted to start with, and she answered, “Red of course. I am making a rainbow.” Vivian loves rainbows. Honestly, I think she might love rainbows more than any person on earth. So we began, I cut the various colors, and she started pasting. Her body relaxed; her vision started to come to life. She looked at me and smiled.
As I looked at her, I saw the nice woman looking at us. She smiled and nodded her head as if to say, “Good job mama, good job.” In that moment, I felt victorious. It was a small victory, but it made me think. How often do we approach a task, a goal, an assignment or even a relationship thinking that there is only ONE way to victory, to completion? I do it all the time. But the Holy Spirit whispered to me in that moment – remember this, remember there is always another way.
I am prone to forgetting this truth. I prone to having narrow vision. I am prone to frustration and getting lost in defeat. But our lives are much more expansive than we realize. God is much more creative than we can imagine. There is always another way to create art, to create something out of nothing.
We finished our “weavings” and all was well. We were victorious (see picture). At least for the next ten minutes…until the next tragedy struck, a conflict having to do with some earrings and a hundred-dollar bill. But that is a story for another time. And so, I left the Center for Contemporary Craft, just a little bit different from when we arrived. A little more open to Creativity showing up in unexpected ways.
From - A Series: Lessons of Motherhood
Originally Published in Swoon Memorial Newsletter