Teeny Tiny Stitches

Have you ever had a moment where you realize what you should really be doing with your life?

Let me first state that I find it utterly depressing that the majority of my conscience thinks I'm set. That this is the path I ought to take and anything off of it is beyond me now. I'm only 25 years old.

I want to be a stay-at-home mom. I'm probably going to cackle at the mere notion of those words in about 5 years - but that's what I think I want to do. Greg and I have a plan and it's going to go into action in a mere few months. Scary.

But that's not what I'm going to do with my life. I mean. I had the thought the other day that even if I'm a stay at home mom - it's only going to be that way for 20 years or so. Then what? I'm particularly talented at sitting on the couch and doing endless crafts - tentacle cupcakes, tiny christmas decorations, baby booties, holiday banners, etc... But what's my purpose?

Am I really saying to myself that my only purpose is to birth and guide my children?

I don't consider myself all that feminist. And I don't mean that question to come across as that wouldn't be a worthy purpose. I just felt an overwhelming void - as though when my 20 years of mothering is up, I'm going to be useless.

I don't want to be useless.

All through high school I loved art. I loved music - singing in particular. Love for piano didn't really kick in until right before college and then I was in college and barely played for years. I still barely play. But I was never a prodigy in any of those areas. I was talented - but only enough to get me into college.

Unfortunately, my freshman year I served as a TA for sculpture and the Professor I was working for was a misogynistic jerk. I found him mean spirited and snotty. I worked for a print making studio for a couple years - but THAT professor turned out to be slimily self-serving. I didn't even realize I'd been taken advantage of until my senior year when I wanted to take a REAL Independent Study with a REAL painter and then I found out I used up the only 2 I was allowed to take for "Drawing" when really I spent my time calling museums to find out if they'd put this guy's work up.

I wanted to do a double honors thesis in Music and art -but they wouldn't let me. So I satisfied myself by doing an Honors Studio art thesis. I cast all of my women friends -


And I cast myself many times. I'm not going to lie, there were awkward moments. How can there not be when the process is basically - I'm going to cover you with vasoline, and then lay plaster all over your boobs.

I was proud of that wall of bodies, and the paintings I did:

But I never deluded myself ONCE by thinking "Man, I can't wait to make a living by making art".

There was one moment, senior year, whilst fulfilling a requirement to graduate that I realized I would have loved studying to be a Cultural Anthropologist. I would have loved it. I ate up that class. I read everything she handed us and couldn't stop talking about it. But I was a senior in college. It was second semester. The inertia of my Art and Music majoring wasn't about to cease.

When we moved to Pittsburgh it took me a couple of months to find a job. It's an ordinary cubicle job. I've been given about 3 tons more work and responsibilities than I was hired for including all of the job responsibilities of someone who was "relocated". It's work. I get paid. That's all it is for me.

When I go home, I can craft. But often my crafting is with little purpose. And often, afterwards, I'm left with the notion of "I like this. But it's going to take up space. Where do I put it?"

Last night Greg and I were watching Coraline's special features and there was segment after segment about these people working on these teensy tiny little costumes for the dolls, or the animators taking 5 months to shoot a 14 second scene... And then there was one vignette about a woman who took 66 days to shoot a dreamy mouse sequence where these fluttering winding mice appear and disappear.

She hand animated all of it. She took one photo at a time after hand manipulating every little wire.

Greg had a normal-people reaction basically expressing how absolutely insane the notion of that is. He was awed, but in a "I would die if I did that" sort of way.

Simultaneously, I felt a pull behind my navel and a yearning burning desire. That is just about the coolest thing EVER. I think I'm in love. I think I know what I want to be when I grow up. How the HELL do you get into that?!?!?

Then I examined my reaction.

Would I really like doing that? Um... Hells to the yes. I obsess over the details all the time. I don't mind spending months and months obsessively working on the same mind twisting hateable loveable project.

I site this:


I love the teeny tiny details. I site the baby booties:

I could do that.

I could be an animator.
Or a costume designer/maker.

Something engrossing for a larger project. Working with a team of eccentric people who are like minded.

I bet they'd even let me wear my lacy skirts to work.

My heart aches.

Maybe this is a phase. Maybe not.

How is it possible to feel such uplifting hope and exhilaration while simultaneously feeling utter hopelessness.

I'm 25. I knew that stop animation was out there, but I didn't really understand till now. How do I do that?