Two quick thoughts

This was inspired by one of those "ask this person a bunch of stuff" interviews. This one is from the recent issue of Gen Q magazine (Which again, I don't know. I like some of the patterns and I like some of the ideas but in some places the editorial tone is a bit, perhaps, too precious, for me).

Anyway, they interview a (male) quilter who works under the pseudonym Molli Sparkles. And one thing they ask him is, what would your dream quilting retreat be like? And he names off a couple of well-known fabric designers.

And you know, this does seem to be the typical response: "OH, I want Big Famous Person A and Big Famous Person B and....."

And you know? I'd go a totally different way with it. I always have a hard time with the "Name five people you'd want to have a dinner party with" because they're expecting well-known people.

But you know? If I were coming up with a "dream knitting/quilting retreat group," it would NOT be, by and large, the big famous names. For two reasons, one not-so-happy, the other one much happier:

First, the not-so-happy: Sometimes Big Famous People don't want to hang out with unknowns like me. I'd feel bad having set up this hypothetical retreat only to be ignored by the people I invited as they "network" with those who can advance their careers. (I may be reading a little of some of my conference experience into this....). And I'd also hate thinking that maybe they'd talk about me behind my back, like "Wow, can you BELIEVE she thought she merited our attention?"


And yes, I understand that a lot of Big Famous People are also extremely nice and would not be that way.....but there are some who are not.

But second, the happier reason: If I were wanting to invite people to a get-together to knit or quilt or talk and eat cookies or whatever, I'd MUCH rather invite my blog-commenters/blog-readers/Ravelry friends. MUCH rather. Because you are the people I value, and I tend to feel like you are the people who value me (or at least you do enough to keep coming back here) and also you are the people that I feel I would have something in common with: you'd be someone I could actually talk to and feel like I was contributing something to, rather than nodding dumbly while the well-known person talks about experiences that are so far beyond what I will ever have. I think there'd be much more two-way interaction with a bunch of us lesser-knowns - with someone really well-known, it's more like everyone defers to them and wants to hear THEM talk. (And there are a few well-known people who are all too willing to dominate a conversation).

It wouldn't even have to be people who quilted or knitted or crocheted or anything like that....anyone could bring any kind of portable hobby type thing and do it while we met, and even if a person didn't have a hobby like that, they'd still be more than welcome to come....maybe they could even wind yarn from skeins into balls for the knitters, if they were willing. Or they could tell stories. Or just listen to the other people talk.

I also admit that things like the interview with that quilter make me a little sad, because they remind me of how very ordinary I am. There is nothing outrageous about me, nothing "distinctive" in the way that a lot of these magazines look for in people. I'm predictable, I go to work every day, I put what I "should" do before what I "want to" do more often than is probably good for my mental health, I don't put in enough time on designing or even working on my projects because I have so many other commitments on my time. I'm not an artist, I don't do things to make "statements," I do things because I like the design or I want a sweater in that color or whatever. And it does make me feel kind of invisible and maybe unworthy. And again, I come back around to being annoyed at the strain in our culture that says "everything has to be Rockstar" (and yes, the phrase "rockstar professor" was used in the meetings this week, and it made me gag a little. I think, as I've said before, it's far more important to strive to be a decent human being - which is within all of our grasp - than to try to be a Rockstar, which, by definition, very, very few of us can achieve. And I'd rather be a success at being a decent person (because I work at it every day) than be a failure at being a Rockstar (because of circumstances perhaps beyond my control)

Though I admit it, dang it: I would like for one of those magazines to call me up some day and want to hear my thoughts on things like whether I was a creative kid and what I think about the modern vs. traditional quilting divide and what I think the future of craft is....