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| Photo by KPS |
The other day I was having a
conversation with a colleague. She asked about the piece I was
wearing. It was a stonewrap – one of the little hoard I have of
pieces that are “mine” and I won't sell. We talked about stones,
and I told her what I could think of off the top of my head. It got
me to thinking about how often I am “on the spot” about things
and what my brain holds and what it buries.
One of the problems with wearing so
many hats is keeping information to hand. While I have studied most
of the aspects of what I do in some relative amount of depth, keeping
all that information to hand on the top of my head fails me. When I
am working with something, the information tends to filter to the
surface if I am immersed in it for a while. But when I am focused on
a different aspect of what I do it goes deep into the filing cabinets
of my brain and trying to recover it is often a futile exercise.
This is true for many of the things I
do.
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| Photo by Darrell Markewitz |
When I am working with my partner on an
iron smelt, the processes that take place as I understand them are
generally something I can describe reasonably well. When I've been
smithing for several days all that stored knowledge starts to be in
the forefront of my brain because that is where it is focused. When
I am working with stones and immersed in their energy I remember
their geology and their properties and their unique characteristics
with more clarity. When I am building a wig I remember how it all
goes together and the order of operations, and how I like to finish
the edges. When I am doing paperwork and bookkeeping I know how to
figure out the bits that go together for the reports and how to
create the necessary picture. When I am processing photographs I
remember the order of what I do to make the photos consistent and try
to make them as good as I can for my needs.
But then, doing a craft show and
remembering how my square reader works on top of setting up and
trying to be informative about my products? Or asking me about any
of those things while I am running my track at the theatre and you
will often get a blank look, or a jumbled semi-coherent explanation
with a lot of ummms and ahhhs and apologies for not being able to
call up that piece of information with any clarity. And I will
probably spend half of the rest of the day (or night) feeling like a
fraud and berating myself for not keeping up with my studies and
questioning whether I really know what I'm doing at all.
And it seems I never stop adding to the
list. I am certainly a victim of “shiny” syndrome when it comes
to learning. I love learning new skills, finding new ways to put
things together. And there is so much knowledge that is important to
me. Along with everything else I'm doing (or supposed to be doing)
right now – you know, focusing on making, building the business,
revamping my booth, rebuilding my tin demo box, prepping for
demonstrations, applying to shows, working on the permaculture garden
and (ha, ha) relaxing, I am immersed in 3 college courses and trying
to get in some fiddle practice and learn some music theory. Now,
don't get me wrong...I wouldn't change it (clearly, since I don't).
But there are many days I ask myself what on earth is wrong with me.
Many days. Especially the days when I feel like I'm locked out of
that filing cabinet of information.
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| Photo by KPS |
The trouble is, for me it is all
important. Every piece of that information from the geology to the
history to the attributes of a god to how to tie a knot in a piece of
hair, how to do a smooth eyeline on a performer, how to process a
photograph or enter something into my inventory – how and where to
hit, what is going on in that iron furnace, what is the history of
that artifact, what was this street called in 1812 York....every one
of those pieces of information has been gathered because it is
important to me. Like all of us, I'm aging and my brain doesn't
bounce as well from one topic to another as it used to. The smart
thing to do would be to narrow my focus – at least for certain
periods. But the way life likes to work of course, there are always
things colliding in time – working an historic demonstration in the
middle of a theatre contract and a bookkeeping job, say. And then,
in spite of having prepared for the demo, try calling to hand that
obscure bit of information about tin in that period. Hah!
Luckily for me, it is mostly the
between times and those bits of information that go missing that are
the frustrating bits. Truth is, I do manage to narrow my focus while
I'm doing something most of the time.
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| Photo by unknown. Maybe Beth Bidwell? |
I get utterly immersed most of the time
in what it is I am doing, or studying, or reading. The trouble
starts when I come up for air, or to switch tasks. Trying to shake
my brain free of what I was just doing in order to be able to dive
into the next thing or even hold a conversation– that's the
difficulty.
I'm going to work on a bit of a theory
this summer...most of the time I try to switch tasks pretty much on a
dime....most of the time I have to. This summer I'm going to work on
either some breathing space or something neutral between tasks. I
think that might be what I used to do to make it work better. So I'm
going to give it a go and see if letting my hair down between
switching tasks helps me keep the information cabinet unlocked.
Between tasks do the dishes, feed the fish, go for a walk. They
don't need to be long breaks, just breaks to let my brain sort
through the last threads of what I was just doing and be ready to be
engaged in something new...because there are always a few threads
that are left dangling, enticing me to dive back in.
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