Off the RACK: Random Acts of Creative Kindness

It has been my experience that anyone can create.  Whether it is a craft, presentation, object, or something less tangible like a theory or poem, that act of doing or making is creative process.  With that, you also have the ability to enrich someone's day, week, or life.  It doesn't have to be monumental, maybe you wrote a report that helped someone learn something new, or drew them a picture that made them smile.  I like to think of these moments as random acts of creative kindness, something you do, purposely or not, that results in little moments of light in someone's day.  As long as you are giving someone the gift of your creativity it counts, and it happens more than you know.  

      My daughter E is teething, and every few days it just seems as though nothing will satisfy or comfort her.  With a full time job I never get as much time as I would like with her, and of course want our time together to be filled with smiles instead of sobs, but so often forget that I can help make that happen.  On one of our rare "days off" together it just seemed as though nothing in the world was good enough for our little miss, I was seriously nearing the end of my sanity.  Just before I reached the breaking point I decided that we just needed to do something immediately to turn our day around.  

       My brother-in-law had given E some paints and a burlap canvas as a Christmas gift that just had never made it to a cupboard to be stashed for when she was "big enough" to play with them.  Being completely out of ideas makes you willing to try anything, so we finger painted with a 10 month old.  I didn't care if we made a mess, ruined every towel in the house, or even painted the linoleum and kitchen counters for life.  As long as it made E happy and she didn't eat any paint, I was determined to turn our day around.

      She had, needless to say, a grand time.  We printed her hand and foot prints on the canvas, with lots of assistance from DH.  She loved getting to put her hand in the squishy paint, and washing it off was even better.  E loves playing in water and I think she enjoyed the clean up more than the painting, she splashed water all over me and the kitchen repeatedly.  After E finished both hands and feet we moved on to the tub for a more thorough scrub and lots more splashing.  And we now have a fun piece of art to hang over her crib that will last far longer than teething.  Granted I sacrificed a stain-free pair of jeans and involuntarily added a few temporary blue highlights to my hair, but we had a great time.

      I think in this case the random act was E's to give.  She could have put one finger in that paint and had a complete baby meltdown!  Something I had contemplated but was praying wouldn't happen.  I don't know if she cooperated because it was something new or because she sensed that mom was about to have her own meltdown, but I can't wait to let her make more happy messes.

It's a Technical Term

With the advent of "ready made", the sewing industry has changed.  Today, most people sew because they choose to.  They enjoy it, but it is not a necessity.  With the advent of social change, I have noted that traditional terminology is also evolving.  I have to admit that I still find a certain amount of romantic appeal in being referred to as a seamstress, but usage is less and less common.  It makes me think of ladies in victorian shirtwaists who sit and hand stitch in their employers' dormer or attic. 
      "Tailor" is still well and thriving in the formal menswear industry, although not nearly enough gentlemen take advantage of this wonderful commodity.  An eigth of an inch ALWAYS makes a difference.  Tailors are the things, or should I say men, of fables and fairy tales, at least the non-sewing population has heard of them.  The tailor is painted as a noble literary creature actually.  He always learns the lesson, finds the moral, or wins the hand of the fair maiden (usually royalty) by the end of the story.  And what sort of woman could resist a dragon-slaying, needle-wielding warrior who is willing to both defend her honor and take a tuck in her petticoat?
      "Sewist" makes me think of the roaring 20's when typists and stenogs were fresh young ladies arrived in the big city to take on the world.  There is something very mechanical in the word.  It sounds so industrious and straightforward.  I imagine a sewist to keep a time card next to her machine so that she (or he) can punch in the moment she sits down at her station, and she has a silver desk bell she can whack each time she reaches the end of a seam. 
      Having worked with costumes a great deal, Drapers, First Hands, and Stitchers all begin to sound like naval ranks.  Instructions and fabrics always seem to be passed hand over hand with shouts of "3 inches off the starboard side".  They are a well calibrated team, ready to be deployed at a moments notice to complete their mission before the first curtain.  The list of titles is seemingly endless, some being more current than others.  Costumer, home economist, sewing machine operator.  Sewer is probably one of my least favorites.  It is certain apt in it's description, it denotes the action taking place and who is performing the task.  Spoken, it is one of the most accurate monikers one could ask for.  But written, the reader is instantly overcome with thoughts of plumbing and the department of public works.  I'm sure that this does not phase most people and that I am the rarity in this perception, unfortunately once an english major always an editor. 
      All technicalities aside, I am so grateful that the art of sewing is thriving under any name.  There are times when it does seem as though the world has forgotten how to sew a button, and it is so nice to reflect and see the art of sewing alive and well under so many different banners.