Vintage chime
Maybe the vintage Lao fabrics were used to working with long time, slow time, enough time...
It seemed to take me a week to get to the vintage Lao fabrics, not that all my time was doing that. It’s just that there was a lot of space in between for what was really a simple act: Take two bins out of my studio closet, open them up one at a time to see what was inside, sort and decide on a few fabrics for a new chime idea; put everything else away. But it wasn’t like that at all.
There was time to sense each piece of Lao fabric and remember how I came to have it, how the fabric came to be with me. There were whispers and stories, moods and grief, elation and surprise. And that all took time. I had to spread everything out slowly in my studio. Keep it like that for a day or so. Reorder and reorganize and make decisions, which was another day or so. And pace myself. After deciding which fabrics to work with and which fabrics were willing to work with me right now, I tucked them in a pile out of sight beside my desk. Another day or so passed. It was all too much.
Fabrics contain potential. Fabrics are waiting for our ideas and invite us to imagine what we can do, without hesitation. Lovely bolts and folds of fabric, some with sophisticated weaves, others with simple rhythms, all in natural colors and gentle feels. The potential is all there. And it was all too much.
Some, admittedly, prefer to stay as fabrics and not change into something else. Some used to be something else – a vintage sihn (long Lao skirt), an old embroidered swatch from a baby carrier, an unfinished bag – and they just aren’t into being made into some other thing. Others prefer to just be left alone. They’ve seen too much, or worked too hard, or are just done. They are unwilling to change. And that’s okay too. I gently put those fabrics back, apologizing for disturbing their dormant state. Maybe I was too much for them.
And then there are others that are so excited to become part of something else. To be made into something unknown – a new identity, a new life, a new look. It wasn’t too much for them.
Because see, I had this idea to make a chime using vintage Lao fabrics. It came to me in one of those middle-of-the-night dreamy visions, and I saw it differently from all the other chimes I’ve made. It was visually rich. And a bit edgy and with mixed-up colors mostly of red/pink/orange and shades of blue.
After another few days or so, I took that tucked away pile beside my desk and put it on my desk. I wanted to get to know them a bit more, so I got close, and held them close. And soon I was photographing them one at a time and then together. It’s a way for me to see and get familiar, and for the fabrics to relax and unfurl a bit, too. They looked beautiful.
I didn’t really know how I was going to make what I saw in that dreamy vision, or if it was going to be anything close to that. Maybe I knew it wasn’t going to be, at least not this first one, and I had to be okay with it.
Once I began, it seemed everything took a lot of time. The whole process of making took a lot of time. And yet I realized at one point that it was mostly in the in-between time. It was the time looking, contemplating, waiting, figuring out, trying this way or that. It was all needed before I could make a decision on the next thing. The process was slow.
I’m not used to that kind of slow. Sometimes it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. I couldn’t make the process faster. I couldn’t decide before the vintage Lao fabrics and silk thread and leaves and stick were ready to decide, too. It was a group decision. It was a collaborative effort, and I just had to wait until we were all ready together. With a little bit of time a way always appeared, always better than what I might have initially thought.
Vintage. Time. Old time. Looking up the definition, used as an adjective in the sense of “being of an earlier time” first appeared in the late 19th century (source). Maybe the vintage Lao fabrics were used to working with long time, having been at it for quite some time.
Even as they were excited to become part of something else, they were in no rush. They’d been around enough to know. Even as they were okay to be made into something new and even unknown, was it too much to ask for the process to be slow?
It wasn’t too much at all.
*
Slowing…
LouLou
“Vintage chime” was originally published as an exclusive post to my Ko-fi supporters in September 2023. Now it is public to you, too!
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