I was working in the lab late one night

When my eyes beheld an eerie sight. For my monster from his slab began to rise, and suddenly to my surprise…





"blehhhh!"






It's… a baby vampire! Oh no, he's adorable. Yeah, he isn't going to be done in time for Halloween, but that doesn't bother me. I might start a Christmas themed bag right after this so that at least that one will be on time, but let's be honest; I'm much more likely to start a pattern of acorns and grapes just in time for the first snowfall. No worries!

Now we will continue on together in how to make your own baby vampire bag. The front will have a baby vampire and the back will have strategic bats and a jack-o-lantern. First we will focus on the baby vampire.

Materials

• Black cloth (46 cm X 51 cm)
  
• White, black, gray, gold, dark red, lighter red, bright red embroidery floss
  
• Charcoal pencil
  
• Embroidery hoop
  

Stitches (Linked to Mary Corbert's Needle N' Thread, an amazing site)

• Line Stitches
  
  • Outline Stitch
    
  • Portuguese Knotted Stem Stitch
    
  • Rope Stitch
    
  • Back Stitch
    
• Fill Stitches
  
  • Cretan Stitch
    
  • Long and Short Stitch Shading
    
  • Heavy Chain Stitch
    
  • Satin Stitch
    
  • Roumanian Couching
    
• Other
  
  • French Knots
    

First draw the vampire picture onto the bag using a charcoal pencil. If you aren't sure of your hand for free-drawing you can turn your window into a light box. Print off the vampire line art, tape it to a window, tape your cloth over that, and trace away! Make sure to leave plenty of room around the edges for the eventual seams, especially along the top since the top will eventually be folded twice for increased carrying strength. You really don't want to eventually sew over your vampire's head or feet after spending hours working on them. I sewed a line in Mountmellick stitch in across the top of the bag to keep that spacing especially safe. Finally, the baby vampire will be eclipsed by a moon in the same gold color to give contrast to his evening clothes, so the color will tie in.

This vampire will give you the opportunity to practice many different stitches. I'm a big fan of learning as you go, but if you are feeling a little insecure about any of these stitches feel free to practice them ahead of time.

First, outline your little guy. The skin (face, hands, and feet) should be outlined using the Outline Stitch in white, and the hair should be outlined using the same stitch in black. His cape should be outlined in black using the Portuguese Stem Stitch. Since the cape will eventually be filled using varying shades of red using flatter stitches (Satin Stitch, Long and Short Stitch Shading) the raised texture of the Portuguese Stem Stitch will give the illusion of a luxurious edging. Outline the clothing using black or white, depending on the area, using the Rope Stitch. Wow, look at that! You've only outlined the little bugger and you've already managed to get significant practice using three separate stitches! Wow!

Next, start working on the details, such as the face. I'm planning on doing all of the facial features in the Satin Stitch, which involves first outlining and filling in the areas in Back Stitch. This means that the eyes, eyebrows, nose, teeth, and tongue must all be very carefully outlined and filled. The buttons on his shirt, his belt, his ears, and even the collar of his cape will all be filled in using the Satin Stitch, so settle in and take your time with the preparation. The cleanness of your Satin Stitch depends on how carefully you outlined and padded the area ahead of time.

His clothing will be filled using Cretan Stitch, the lower half of his cape will be filled using Long and Short Stitch Shading in various shades of red, his skin will be filled using Roumanian Couching which strikes me as deliciously ironic, and his hair will be filled using Heavy Chain Stitch. This will be explored further in later entries.

Samplers are not for me

There is one part of me that I'm not trying to get away from now that the anxiety disorder is behaving, and that is the part of me that likes to make useful things. I like making the bags because anyone can use them. Everyone always needs a bag. I like making things that people can use.

I think it's why I had a hard time learning to sew before. Beginning sewing projects are… not that useful, to say the least. At least the ones I found, and for my age. They are very useful if you're a child, or if you have children. A popular project is making stuffed animals, which is great if you have small children. But I don't have small children. Ok, I have my students, but I'm pretty sure ALTs aren't supposed to bribe children with stuffed animals. I've already had kids begging for my eco bags, they might eat each other to get a stuffed animal. And then there would be an international incident and suddenly it's all Lord of the Flies, and I don't even have any conch shells.

Moving on!

There seemed to be a gorge between simple beginning sewing projects and simple useful sewing projects, as if there was a scale of sewing projects from 1 to 10, and suddenly things jumped from 1 (child's project) to 5(&@%!). I felt like I was missing steps, and the anxiety was telling me that everyone else already knows what those steps are and that if I didn't know those steps already I was never going to learn. I was paralyzed. There wasn't any point in sewing something that wasn't "useful," but the useful things were so far beyond my level that I couldn't even consider making them without dissolving into a pile of insecurity.

Let me emphasize that this is not truth. This is what my messed up brain was telling me. Stuffed animals aren't useless, obviously, and making easy projects to practice skills is very, very useful. The only problem was my brain making it impossible to believe that. Logic has no place in an anxiety disorder, which was actually a clue to my finally figuring out that I had one.

Now I've got the anxiety under control so logic can once again have a place in my life, but I still enjoy making things that can be used. Samplers usually can't. They're made to be displayed, to practice stitches. They also embody the part of embroidery that I don't really like. I don't like cross-stitch, I never have, and samplers reek of it to me. It's not rational, because samplers are not restricted to cross stitching by any means. But the kind of embroidery I want to do different.

Which is why I love making the bags! They're useful, and I can do pretty much anything with them! I'm really looking forward to introducing my baby vampire tomorrow. After him I'm going to go a more floral route and make something with a tree and leaves and changing colors and acorns. Very autumn-y. The vampire will actually end up using 10 stitches, four of which are new for me. He's absolutely adorable. I hope you guys like him!

Everybody’s gonna love today, love today, love today.

All reactions to my sewing projects have been overtly positive. In many cases I think the reactions are also covertly positive. However, there are cases where I have to constantly second-guess myself because the connotations of what is said in Japanese (because these conversations are always in Japanese) are not necessarily completely kosher by Western standards, and I have to check myself to make sure I'm not being oversensitive. For example, the most common reaction to my embroidery has been "There's also embroidery in foreign lands???" 「外国にも刺繍があるの？！」And you know, on some basic level this makes me bristle a little bit. It's not because of the question as much as the way it's delivered. There's a big difference, in my mind, between "Oh, I didn't know embroidery was popular in your country as well," and the incredibly theatrical "You sew things in foreign countries, too??" The latter phrase is almost always accompanied by flailing hands and dramatically widened eyes, as if the very concept of sewing in a country outside of Japan or China is just too crazy for words.

There are extenuating circumstances, of course. The question is usually being used as a conversation opener, so the ignorance professed is quite likely exaggerated in order to facilitate ease of communication. There's a good chance the person asking has no personal interest in embroidery and thus they wouldn't know anything about it anyway. I had a great conversation with one principal about the Silk Road and how it brought culture back and forth between China and Egypt that started because he didn't know that embroidery existed outside of China. He used to be a history teacher, and he excitedly lectured me about how important it is to know where things originate, because you can't truly get a complete picture of the world without seeing those primal connections. So while the opening question seemed quite narrow-minded the following conversation and the individual in question were anything but.

The investment of my coworkers in my projects is very heartening. It depends on the school, of course, but it occasionally feels like my coworkers are actually cheering me on, encouraging me to do my best and not give up. The staff at the concrete jungle is especially warm. Just the other day I brought my almost finished fish bag there and the secretary pretty much stole it from me to tote it around the teacher's room and show it off. They practically had kittens. Later that day when I was on my way out to go to elementary school the principal himself came running out to wish me luck on my fish bag. I was really feeling the love. Unfortunately, I was also feeling the awkward.

Say hello to the Dancing Bear Factor and the Compliments Are Complicated Factor.

I worry that the reason they're being so nice is because I'm like a dancing bear. Oh look, the foreigner learned a new trick! Everyone look, the foreigner is doing something! I think most foreigners in Japan are often treated like this in terms of mundane tasks. Again, usually it's in order to start a conversation. Oh, look, you can use chopsticks! Oh, look, you're eating Japanese food! Oh, look, you can make a phone call in Japanese! I've even gotten complimented on my ability to read a book in English, which, uh, yeah. Usually I can take the comments in the spirit they're given, but sometimes the possible racist undertone starts to get to me.

It especially starts to get to me when the compliments roll out, because the most common compliment I've been getting lately is "oh, you're so Japanese" with the implication that Japanese is positive and foreign is negative. When I showed up on time to an event I was complimented as being Japanese. When I downplay my sewing (because honestly, I've only been doing it for a couple of months and I'm not that good) I'm told how Japanese I am. When I mention that a student has gotten much more confident compared to how shy he was last year I hear "oh, you remembered how that kid was last year, how Japanese!" Again, I can usually accept the spirit behind the compliment, which is sincere. My coworkers are all wonderful people and I've really lucked out by having such a positive work situation filled with such friendly, open-minded people.

But sometimes it's difficult hearing that undertone. Foreigners are late; Japanese people are punctual. Foreigners are rude; Japanese people are polite. Foreigners are selfish and don't care about other people; Japanese people are always considering the other person and never put themselves first. All good traits belong to Japan and all negative traits belong to foreign countries. I don't mind five year old kids pointing at me and saying "It's a foreigner!" 「外人だ！」They're little kids and they don't know any better. I have a slightly harder time when the offender is a grown adult.

Muh-muh-muh my kotatsu!

Now I've got "My Sharona" stuck in my head. Anyway, it's finally come! Kotatsu season is here. I resisted as long as I could, but I gave in last night. Considering I could see my breath walking to the music festival I think it was definitely time. Oh, how I love my kotatsu. Of course, it's warmed up a little bit today, from 10 degrees Celsius to a whopping 12 degrees, so I didn't need to turn it on this morning. Oh well. It doesn't hurt to have it out a little early. Also, sewing under the kotatsu is the nicest feeling ever.

Anyway, enough about my magical heated table of dreams and unicorns. I finished the fish bag the other day! What has it taught me? That I need more practice with the sewing machine. I need to figure out how to keep the tension on the thread tight, which means I have to delve into the all-Japanese manual at some point in the near future. AWESOME. At least I'll learn some new words. But in any case, shoddy sewing not-withstanding I'm happy with the way it's come out. I lined it with a lighter blue fabric with I think gives a nice contrast. I'm happy with the balance of the piece. Before I sewed it together I was worried that there was too much open space on the back. "Maybe I should add more bubbles," I thought to myself. "I mean, there is that whole three square inches of open blue on the left side. There could totally be a bubble there." I ended up deciding against the bubble because I liked the asymmetrical look of the bubbles. I'm a big fan of asymmetrical designs. I myself am asymmetrical; I have three piercings in my left ear and two in my right. I'm always considering getting another piercing, but having three and three or four and two makes my teeth feel itchy. Same with the bubbles. I think I made the right decision.

First I pinned the bag together wrong sides together. I use a French seam because since this is supposed to be a bag for carrying things I want to make it as strong as possible.

  Then I made the lining, also using a French seam. I sewed it together right sides together initially because I wanted the right sides to be visible as the lining. I erred on the side of caution when sizing the lining because the last lining I made was too small so I had to do it over again, and I didn't have enough light blue fabric to make a new lining if this first one was too small. Well, it wasn't too small. It was actually a bit too big, width-wise. The length was fine, but the width had definitely reached franken-bag proportions. But it was eleven at night so I figured "I'm a problem solver, I'll make it work!" Well, with a few missteps I did make it work. I still have to sew all the bobbin threads into the bag, you can see them peeking out over the top corners, but overall I'm happy. I really enjoy the color choices, and hey, the thing will never ever break because I had to sew most of the seams three times what with measuring the lining wrong. Silver linings, right?

Coming up next? Halloween bag and a shirt!

Balance

I met some kids at the supermarket the other day when I went to buy more thread. Actually, I met what seemed like half the island. There isn't a lot to do on the island when the weather starts to cool down, so most kids hang out in the supermarket. There's a small arcade, a snack stand, a bookstore, and some purikura booths. Most kids just waved and said hello, but a couple, Chi-chan and Mizuki (names changed) walked along with me for a bit to have a chat. I went to the area with the embroidery floss and started to fill my basket. They had black, thank goodness, so I was really stocking up. I knew I didn't want to run out of any colors before I finished the bubbles.

The girls asked what I was making, and I showed them what I had sewed so far (I had brought it along with me so I didn't accidentally buy the wrong floss… again.) and they obligingly cooed over it and I automatically rejected all their compliments Japanese-style. Oh no, it's hideous, it looks like a monkey sewed it, it only looks good if you aren't wearing your glasses, and so on. I asked them if they liked 家庭科, Home Economics, and they both immediately responded with loud NOs. I was surprised, since most kids who follow me around into the sewing section like Home Ec, so I asked them why. They thought about it for a minute, and then Chi-chan offered that it takes too much time, and Mizuki added that it's too 細かい, or delicate/small. We talked a bit more, and I considered tying in a small lesson about how things that take time and are small or delicate (like English!) are worth continuing, and that the reward of finishing a piece or being able to understand more English is worth it. I eventually decided against it and let them go on their way without a heavy-handed prod about English.

On an island you can't avoid your students or your coworkers after hours unless you want to hide in your house. This can be suffocating to many ALTs, but I love running into my students. They're almost all good kids, so even the kids that have graduated to high school and don't see me in class anymore still say hello. I have worried a fair bit about how, as the Assistant Language Teacher and resident Foreign Devil, I should talk with them. Do I force every child to say hello to me? Do I run them down on the street and make them do at least a little bit of English practice (What color is this?? Do you like conbini??)? Do I speak a little bit of Japanese to ease things along or stick with 100% English?

Now, I'm not in this job to be liked. I don't give a fig whether my students like me, which might be one reason a lot of them do. Kids can smell desperation a mile away. I'm in this job to teach English and encourage internationalization. So my number one goal is to keep kids open and receptive to English. I try to hit a balance with the kids. If the kid is obviously avoiding me I might not say hi to them. So many of these kids have social anxiety issues where they just stop talking, sometimes for years, and I don't want to overload them. Unless the kid initiates I won't usually start a conversation. I will admit that this works because pretty much all of the kids initiate conversations at one point or another, even the kids who aren't that great at English. I'm sure I'd feel more pressure if only the teacher's pet kids were talking to me outside of class.

I use more Japanese with elementary school kids, but I generally try to make the English sandwich where I say something in English, then Japanese, and then English again. I can actually do more English practice with elementary school students than JHS students because quizzing a group of ten year olds what colors they like is still a fun game. Teenagers are going to feel more put on the spot.

I want to do what's best for the students. They suffer from one of the biggest blocks in learning; why should we learn this, we're never going to use it. The opportunities for English on the island are larger than the kids think (the fishermen actually support learning English because they speak English with other sailors they meet internationally), but they aren't very obvious. As long as they don't start to hate English they'll probably be ok. They'll learn in high school, their jobs, on their own, or in an English Conversation Class. So my goal is just to keep their minds open. I don't want them to resent English, or avoid the ALT. I don't want them to run away from something that they might well have to use later in their life. So I'm not too hard on them outside of class. I'm looking at the big picture, and midterm grades don't factor into the big picture very much at all.

Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles! My bubbles.

 

Well, I didn't manage to finish my bag over the weekend as planned, but I don't really mind. The bubbles are taking a bit longer to sew than I expected, but I'm pretty sure they're going faster than if I had decided to sew satin stitched leaves all over the place. If I wasn't all neurotic about how it would change the tone of the bag I'd sew a little yellow fish into the corner looking all crazy-like at the bubbles. I don't think it fits with the feel of the bag, though. Also, copy-right infringement, but whatever. It's not like I'm selling it. In any case, it's a moot point because I'm not sewing the fish on anyway, so Pixar doesn't have to sue the pants off me.

I'm thinking of adding one bubble to the front of the bag to tie them together. Right now I like how they're both turning out, but they feel disconnected to me. Also, I've got a fair amount of open space left on the front of the bag next to the fish. This would add something without looking too busy.

I'm a big fan of how the bubbles are turning out so far. Doing them in outline stitch has created the kind of smooth fill that I was aiming for. With the fish I was all about texture. Fish are living things, and texture would give an illusion of life to an otherwise flat image. Bubbles are not alive, and they are very, very smooth. The outline stitch is giving them that illusion of smooth. Satin stitch probably would have worked better, but I would have had to make the bubbles much smaller. Oh, and it would have taken forever. Can't forget that.

The truth is, I'm already thinking about my next project, the shirt. It's a necessary project. I need to get more practice with my sewing machine, and I need to practice making things that aren't rectangles. I also need to start a new project so that I can move this blog into the incarnation I want it to be, i.e. a blog that shows how to do the projects I'm doing step by step instead of just cataloguing what I'm doing. I'm running into mental blocks for a few reasons.

1. This will be the first thing I sew using a pattern, and inevitably I will end up sewing something on backwards, upside down, to itself, inside out, etc. The possibilities are endless.
   
2. All of this fun embroidery stuff that looks so nice on bags? Will end up looking ridiculously tacky on actual clothing. I've been trying to percolate something in my brain that I can detail on to this shirt after I make it without making it look cheap and ugly.
   
3. OH MY GOD IT'S NOT A BAG, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THIS.
   

Now, most of this is residue from the anxiety disorder. Rationally I know that if I sew it all wrong then it isn't the end of the world and I can fix it or start over again. Also, I'm not going to know how to do something unless I try. Finally, there's an easy solution-ish to number 2. I'm going to have to start sketching. Oh, Lord.

Take me to the river

There we have it! The front of the bag is finished, and I'm very happy with the way it turned out! If you can't tell, the blue swirls are supposed to be water. The fish is swimming happily along a river with little bubbles in his wake. I thought about putting little bubbles coming from his tail, but I think it'll just end up looking like fishy poo. The waves are Mountmellick stitch, which is basically composed of a bunch of connective triangles. This made it particularly well suited to water. The outline stitch would have been smooth but too thin, and heavy chain stitch would have looked weird. Water doesn't usually end up looking like an interlocking chain.

 The spray is composed of French knots. Now, this was my first time sewing both the Mountmellick stitch and French knots. Mountmellick wasn't too bad, I want to work on making it more regular, but I don't think it's too uneven. The French knots were a pain. I kept accidentally pulling them through the fabric and then creating this mutant knot halfway between the front and back of the fabric. It was ugly. I switched to a larger needle and that solved the problem. I didn't have to pull as hard to get the thread through the fabric because the needle was creating a larger hole. I like the way it turned out. The knots have a bit of texture too them. I didn't want them to turn out too regular because spray from waves is completely random. I think my favorite part is the spray coming off of his upper fin. It adds the dynamic movement I wanted to simulate.

 
Now I'm working on the back of the bag. I was initially planning on using wavy plants, but decided that bubbles would fit the theme better. I looked around on google for a reference picture and found this picture from koolrpix.

It fit what I wanted pretty well. Simple, but with perspective. I sketched some bubbles onto the fabric using a white charcoal pencil and then went over them again in a fine-tipped marker. The bubbles will be sewed entirely in the outline stitch using four colors; the same light blue as the spray for the outline and third fill section, the dark blue of the waves for the second fill section, black for the first fill section, and white for the light reflection points. The outline stitch uses thread up pretty quickly when used as a fill, so I'm probably going to run out of floss before I'm finished. My next mainland trip is in November so I may very well be screwed. Oh well. I'll see how far I can get and hey, maybe my island will stock up on black thread. Or maybe I can ask someone to special order it or something. It'll work out one way or another.

In other news, I got hugged by an elementary school student at the conbini today. Awwwwwwwwww.

Let’s do the time warp again

Man, I resisted the Rocky Horror Picture Show for years. It was ridiculously popular in my high school, and the local movie theatre did special performances monthly. I couldn't stand it. I hated the entire atmosphere surrounding it. People acting like watching a cult classic somehow keyed them into a higher reality. Arguing over who would play Rocky, who would make a good Frank N. Furter, and who would get to play Janet. Ugh. I avoided the movie like the plague.

And then I took a trip home from Japan and was guilt-tripped into watching it. And you know what? I enjoyed it. I'm still glad I didn't get into it as a kid, though. I'll take my cult movies more like The Warriors, thanks.

Anyway, this is a big long wind-up towards talking about my project before Mr. Fish: the Fleur de Lys patterned bag.

This is the second thing I embroidered and the third bag I sewed. I had sewed a simple design using chain stitch onto another bag, but this pattern involved quite a bit more challenge. All of the stitches are relatively simple, but considering I was starting from complete zero I was quite nervous.

 

The lines are doing with outline stitch and stem stitch, depending on which direction I was sewing it. In retrospect I probably could have gotten away with always doing outline stitch, but I was afraid that it would be really obvious if the thread switched directions. In reality, I don't think you can tell. The challenges of the lines were to keep them straight and in perspective and to change the colors around. Time consuming, but not particularly difficult. But then… the satin stitch.

Looking at Needle N' Thread, the website I've been looking at for stitches and patterns, I really liked the way the satin stitch looked. Simple yet elegant. Unfortunately, especially considering I was switching colors so often, doing the satin stitch took forever. First every area had to be outlined using backstitching. Then filled for padding. And then painstakingly stitched over with one thread to give it the final satin appearance. It was completely worth it, but It's going to be awhile before I take on such a large satin stitch-based project again. That's largely due to the thread available on my island. It frays and separates ridiculously easily, which can be quite frustrating when working a stitch that depends on a smooth, continuous look. The outline stitch was done using multiple threads, so the thread never separated.

I had originally planned on sewing the design on both the front and back of the bag, but I realized that if I did that I would never finish. Also, the whole bag was making me a little crazy. You see, I had started dreaming about it.

When I was about two-thirds of the way done embroidering I had a nightmare. I was in a car, and one of my coworkers was driving. We were crossing the bridge between Ohio and Pennsylvania over the Pymatuning Reservoir, and for some reason my coworker turned right off of the road into the water. Now, in the dream I was quite calm as the car slowly sank. My coworker climbed out and got back onto the bridge. My only thought? How to throw my sewing onto the bridge so it didn't go down with the car.



…



Yeah, it was definitely time to move on from that project.

It’s the end of the fish as we know it

And I feel fine! Look at this baby!

A far cry from Mr. Fungus Fish in the first entry. I can't believe I actually finished him! It took around two weeks, by my reckoning, but I could be wrong. He definitely went faster than the fleur de Lys pattern I did for the first bag, probably due to the excessive amounts of satin stitch taking forever and a day whereas Mr. Fungus Fish used faster stitches.

Now I get to think about the detailing. I'm planning on waves with spray framing the fish like he's jumping. I don't want to do anything to take away from the fish itself; he's definitely the main focus. At the same time, I don't want to do something that's too simple that doesn't compliment the fish, because then it'll look like I got burnt out after doing the fish and just threw something together afterwards. I think I'll use Mountmellick stitch. It's a decorative line stitch so it will look nice, but it isn't something that will draw attention away from the fish. I'll accent it with French knots in a lighter blue to simulate the spray from the waves.


I'm worrying about the back of the bag, though. I've been planning to put some pretty green ferny things on the back of the bag since the beginning, but lately I've been feeling more and more uncomfortable with the idea. It just didn't seem to be fitting with the bag or with my aesthetic. I've always been a big fan of simplicity. I'd rather do too little and add things later than do too much and regret it. But I don't want to leave the back of the bag blank. What should I do?

I'm playing around with the idea of bubbles for the back. They'll be simple, and I won't have to spend a lot of time on them. At the same time, they'll fit nicely with the color scheme I've got going on, which is what was messing with my head. I have this white and blue thing going on with little accents of orange, black and silver, and then suddenly the entire back is supposed to be covered with green? It feels dissonant to me. It's almost like I can taste how off it would be to have a bunch of green plants on an otherwise blue and white motif. Not bad, per se, but not a perfect either. And with the amount of time I'll end up spending on this thing I want it to be as perfect as physically possible. I think bubbles will be much more complimentary.

The kids are having an election at Southside today. They're choosing the new student council members. The last two years here I went in and listened to the speeches but this year I'm sitting out. Once you've heard have a dozen speeches from kids trying to get elected you've heard them all, and I never end up rooting for a kid that wins. I've got perpetual underdog syndrome.

Next week is the music festival for the entire island and I cannot wait! Singing, cute kids, and prime sewing time. B-E-A-U-tiful.

The Home Stretch

I'm heading into the home stretch of the fish and I can feel gumption traps all around me. I can feel this manic voice in my head telling me to power through, pull and all-nighter, and just finish-finish-finish no matter what the cost. Except I know that if I do that, if I rush through these last bits, then I'm going to burn out. Especially considering the most frustrating part of the fish is coming up!

Notice anything about the two fins? Maybe that they're two different shades of gray? Yeah. Welcome to how my brain doesn't always work all that well. You see, when I first started sewing Mr. Fish I did the outline first. I didn't know any filling stitches so I didn't want to jump into that right away, which left the fins and the spots. This fish being my first time trying to sew something which looked like a picture I wanted to work the fin first, to get the perspective of the ridges by using gray and white heavy chain stitch. Wait! An obstacle! There's no gray thread on my dinky little island!

I stood there, staring at the whopping twenty different colors of floss. Maybe I could do the ridges in white and light blue? No, that would look really weird. But wait! What's that over there? It's a bird.. a plane.. it's special Japanese hand-sewing thread in silver! Silver is like gray! I can make this work, because I am a problem solver!

I promptly went home and cut 6 lengths of hand-sewing thread (手縫い糸), knotted them together, and spent ten minutes trying to get all six of them threaded through the needle. In retrospect that should have been a warning sign. I eventually got it all threaded through, made the first stitch and-

KNOT.

Ten minutes untangling the knot.

Lather, rinse, repeat ad naseum.



But in the end I triumphed! I was able to wrestle the horrible hand-sewing thread into submission, and while it wasn't perfect it was at least it was passable. I settled in to bask in my resourcefulness, content that I had overcome a major stumbling block.

 Needless to say, I wasn't happy. I went to SATY, and as expected, piles if gray, but none that actually matched the thread I'd already used. I bought some anyway just in case the different shades wouldn't be too obvious. I started sewing with it and at first it seemed like it might work! It's still kind of silvery. It's going to be ok!

Yeah, I was just fooling myself. They're markedly different. But you know what? I think it can work. I'll work the tail in two separate colors and if anyone asks I'll tell them that it's supposed to be shadow versus light. The sun is shining on the fish's left side, which means the colors will be brighter. Yes. Not because I couldn't wait until I had decent thread, mm-mmmmm.



*cough*

Gumption

I've been making good progress on my fish, but there have been a few stumbling blocks. Most recently when I spent an hour sewing the Bokhara couching fill with the wrong color!! Instead of the white I've been using I accidentally picked a cream that looked white and didn't notice until an hour later. It got me thinking about gumption.

Living here in Japan is tough for a voracious reader, and I do mean voracious. I inhale books. Luckily, my dad is the nicest dad in the whole wide world, and he sends me books he picked up in the half-price bookstore back home. He sends me a lot of classics, which I enjoy. May I recommend East of Eden by Steinbeck? Anyway, last year or the year before he sent me Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

Now, I had been avoiding that book for years. Too many people had been zealously pushing it at me. Too many people going on about how it changed their life, cured cancer, got them a million dollars, bleh. But there I was in Japan with a relative lack of books, I had reread my current supply about 6 times each, and I couldn't take it. I had even borrowed the Danielle Steel novels that one of my teachers collected. So I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

I will admit, I enjoyed it, and I've reread it quite a few times since then. I'm sure a lot of things stick with readers of that book. Phaedrus' obsession with and interpretation of Quality. The writing exercises he devised for his students to unstick their creativity and thought. The concept of a Chautauqua. But what always sticks with me is a section just a few pages long about gumption. The author talks about gumption as related to motorcycle repair, and how important it is not to get into a gumption trap. He extols the virtue of knowing when to quit, when to take a break and let your brain rest.

When I spent an hour using the wrong color on my fish I could feel the old thoughts crowding into my head. Good old rule #2 taking effect. If I really knew what I was doing I would have noticed the thread was different immediately. I would have checked it in better light. I would have made sure to put that thread and the true white next to each other so that the different shades were immediately apparent instead of next to a dark red floss that increased the contrast and created a false white. Behind all of that I could hear rule #3 clamoring to be heard; I had wasted time by making that mistake, and that was an unforgivable crime. I should throw the fish out right now and go wear a hair shirt to atone for my sin of cream-colored thread.

And if I wasn't treating my disorder I would have had a really difficult time ignoring those thoughts. Now I can put them into a box where they belong. I took the thread out, continued on, and didn't think anything else of it.

I should be finishing the fish in a few days barring unforeseen delays, and I'm playing around with ideas of what to do to finish detailing the bag. I want to put ferny plants on the back, but the design I'm thinking of using involves dozens of little satin stitch leaves. That could be a gumption trap. After spending so much time on the fish I could lose that momentum on a bunch of plants. On the other hand, I don't want to only do a bunch of fast, easy feather stitches and feel like I took the easy way out. I also have to take into account the factor of a sun-colored motif along the top of the bag (most likely abstract and simple), and light blue waves with French knot or seed stitch foam. Any of these could easily trap me and suck out my gumption. And yet I feel pretty darn motivated. Maybe I don't have to worry so much about gumption traps after all?

Take a fish to work day

Working as an ALT in Japan means that it's possible to bring my sewing to work. It's interesting in a way. If you read the JET Forums there are any number of people constantly soap-boxing about how they only ever study or plan lessons during their copious amounts of free time and denouncing those JETs who bring a book to work or surf the net for reasons other than kanji box. Now, the catchphrase of JET is ESID, or each situation is different. There are JETs who are based at very strict schools where they must wear suits every day and present a certain image. There are JETs who have very little free time (usually high school ALTs) due to planning all of their own lessons every day. I spent my first two years here being very careful to present a good, hardworking image despite being in a much more informal environment and not being responsible for planning classes. I was the first American ALT in the elementary and JHS in a dog's age and I wanted to present a good image to battle the American Stereotype.

The thing is, though, my schools really are very laid back. I work at four junior high schools and seven elementary schools and I could count the number of suit-wearing teachers on one hand. I'm looking around the teacher's office here at Seaside, and I only see two button-down shirts and one tie out of eight staff members. The Southside is even more informal, with teachers running around in tracksuits all day. The Concrete Jungle is a bit more regimented, but still comfortable. The lunch lady holds the power at that school, and she doesn't stand on ceremony very much as long as you respect her. Lately the Westside has been a bit more strict thanks to a new principal starting in April, but it's nothing compared to some schools. It goes without saying that all of the elementary schools are quite relaxed.

(You might have noticed that the junior high schools are codenamed. You're so smart!)

At first I was nervous about bringing my sewing to work, even though I only worked on it during lunch breaks. I knew it was going to bring me attention, and boy was I right! The cries of "oh my gosh, the foreigner can sew???" echoed around eleven staff rooms. I was asked in hushed tones if people also embroidered in the US, and by the eleventh time it was pretty difficult not to spin a yarn about how we weld all of our clothing together in the US and only Japan knows how to embroider. Eventually that petered out, probably helped by my Wikipedia-fueled counterattack of facts about the origins of embroidery showing up in Europe, Egypt, and China. By that point I was more comfortable sewing between classes, because I noticed something interesting; more students were talking to me, and they were more confident using English! Whaaaaaaaat?

I knew that props helped make talking easier. Elementary kids climb me like a tree to get my stuffed monkey and my Rilakkuma pencil case is stolen on a daily basis. It's so much easier to start talking if you having something to point to, hold, or ask for. Every kid I teach now knows two very important phrases: Monkey, please, and Monkey pass. I'm leveling them up to "I want the monkey," and next we're hopefully going to get to "give me the monkey." But why would a silly little fish design be engaging at all? It isn't that cute, you can't throw it at each other, and it's, well, boring compared to stuffed animals. But a few weeks ago the special needs girl at Southside spoke to me for the first time in months and we had a nice little conversation about what colors we like, whether she likes sewing or cooking better (cooking), what her favorite recipe is (stir-fried veggies), and I couldn't ignore that. My relationships with work colleagues have also gotten better. People who've been cool towards me for two years are coming up and starting conversations with the sewing as a catalyst! It's unbelievable!

JET recommends studying as a way to start conversations with people because you can ask them questions about what you don't understand but I've found that those conversations tend to end pretty quickly. You ask a question, get an answer, finish. It's good as an ice-breaker, but unless you're asking a teacher of Japanese you probably aren't going to get very far from asking what やはりtranslates as in English. Students are also probably less willing to approach the ALT when the ALT is burying her head in a textbook, has a dictionary open, and is furiously writing kanji. The biggest factor, though, is probably that all Japanese students have to take home economics, starting in the 5^th grade in elementary school! Where they might not have confidence in speaking English they will definitely have more confidence concerning crafts!

Still, to put it in perspective, I don't think I'd be able to get away with sewing at school if I hadn't spent the first two years working really hard and if I wasn't making it clear that I'm still working hard now, what with the two adult eikaiwa classes a week, international day, speech contest practice after school and on weekends, etc. I don't think this would necessarily work for a brand-new JET right out of the box. I consider myself very lucky to be placed in an area where I'm given so much autonomy and where my fellow teachers are open-minded enough to let me use this as a way to increase communication with kids. I always tell people, if I hadn't been placed here I would have left after a year. Now I'm on my third year and I can't believe how difficult it's going to be to leave next August.

A Fish With No Name

Article:            Eco bag

Current Detailing:    Japanese Koi

• Body Fill = Bokhara Couching in white (6 strand)
  
• Body Spots = Portuguese Stem Stitch in orange and black (3 strand)
  
• Eyes = Padded Satin Stitch in slate blue (3 and 1 strand)
  
• Fins = Heavy Chain Stitch in white and grey (6 strand)
  

Planned detailing:    Waves, ferns on reverse side, sunny accents along the top, snap close

I've been working on my koi, my Japanese carp, for about two weeks now. Despite being more complex than my first project he's still moving along at a much faster pace. I don't think it's due to any real improved skill; it's probably thanks to not having to do a million satin stitch sections, all of which needed to be outlined, padded, and filled. Mr. Fish may have more colors, more sections, and more stitches, but none of the stitches are as time-consuming as the satin stitch.



In any case, I should be finished with my little fishy friend by the end of the week, hopefully finishing up the bag with some ferny green accents and a sunny design along the top by the weekend. And yet, I still don't have a name for my fish. I'm not the kind of person who names inanimate objects. My computer is named Greenfly, but I don't ever refer to it as anything other than "the computer." My cats back home are named Tigeress and Isis, but we call them the cat and the kitten and have for ten years. I did manage to name my bicycle at Doshisha. My friends were doing it, and who doesn't love peer pressure, so I named my bike Desmond. And then Desmond promptly got stolen and was never seen again. Maybe I shouldn't name my fish…



Except this fish symbolizes so much for me. This fish is the first completely self-realized creative project I have ever been able to conceptualize and bring to fruition. He is the first thing I've done since beginning to treat my anxiety disorder. Before treatment I couldn't be creative. It's difficult to explain, but here's the closest I've been able to come. Basically, my brain was constantly telling me three things.

1. There is a completely 100% correct way of doing everything. Making friends, sewing, working, walking, everything
   
2. Everyone else already knows this correct way. You are the only person who doesn't, and you must never ever let anyone know that you are defective
   
3. If you don't do something the "correct way" then people will know that you are defective and the world collapse around your ears
   
   
   
   

This made anything creative pretty much impossible. I've wanted to learn how to sew for years, but my brain was constantly telling me that everyone who sews magically knew how to sew and I was hopeless. Everything sent me into a loop. Choosing a pattern sent me into loops of "what if it's too easy," "Well, what if it's too difficult." Learning a new technique sent me into loops of "now I know how to do it, I must move on to the next technique or I'm wasting time," "I know how to do it but I haven't mastered it, I have to keep practicing," with the accompanying panic of Rule #1 telling me that there is an exact amount of time to practice the new sewing technique and if I don't practice long enough or if I practice too long then I run into Rule #3. Apocalypse. Whammo.



Now I can begin to remove myself from those loops. I can look at my little fish and voluntarily step off of the circus ride that was my brain. He will not look perfect. I will look at him and see all of his little imperfections. I will be doing Bokhara Couching next month and look at my fish and wonder how I thought I was doing it right. I will look at his spots done in Portuguese Stem Stitch and kick myself for not using another stitch. I know I'll never forget jury-rigging the thread for his left fin out of hand-sewing thread because there wasn't any grey embroidery floss on my little island and then realizing (after I finished that one fin and having two more to go) that I was going to the mainland in three days and I could have waited and bought grey floss there. But I will still love my fish, and I won't regret the time I spent making him. For the first time, at 25 years old, I was able to create something all on my own, and I was able to create it without fighting my own brain chemistry telling me that failure is inevitable.

I could name him something twee and symbolic, like the word for dream in Japanese (夢). I could name him something random (After all, he looks like an Oscar to me). I could name him something irreverent and self-consciously silly designed to make people laugh (Mr. Funny Finny Fish). Or I could name him something that wraps up all of my feelings surrounding him and being able to enjoy and improve in this hobby I've been wanting to learn since I was in elementary school sewing clothing for my beanie babies.



Hello everyone, I'd like you to meet my fish. His name is "Finally."