When the Museum of Beadwork first announced the Beaded Square Project last year, I debated whether or not to participate. It felt a little out of my comfort zone since I do not typically make heavily beaded pieces. On the other hand, I did have a strong urge to make something artistic to commemorate this strange time in history.
It helped that the rules of the Beaded Square Project were minimal: a suggested color palette, a required size and shape (a six-inch square), and the themes of the last year (pandemic, isolation, stay at home orders, etc.). The guidelines assured me that all entries were welcome no matter your level of beading experience. This project felt like the perfect amount of structure: enough limits that I wouldn't dither forever on an idea, but not so many that I felt restricted. I also liked that this was a community project: the pieces will be joined together as a beaded quilt or display for the museum's opening show in 2022.
Getting Started
In July 2020 I made a few little beaded books and beaded flowers as prototypes, thinking that they might morph into a larger idea. Before I traveled too far down that path, my shop started to become busier and I needed to set this project aside in favor of paying work.
Once I picked up this project again after Christmas I rethought my initial impulse. Instead of lots of little books, I'd make a larger one. I wasn't sure what to do about the flowers at this point.
The Quote
I'd always liked this quote attributed to Cicero: "If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need." For awhile in the Before Times I sold hand-stamped copper bookmarks with that phrase. During quarantine, that quote took on more meaning. I was lucky enough to have access to some outdoor space (a backyard and a walkable neighborhood) and a library that offered online options when the physical building temporarily closed.
At the same time, as important as both gardens and libraries are, I don't know that those two things are "everything" you need. There's a part of me that sees the title of my piece ("Everything You Need") as a bit of tongue-in-cheek as so many government officials, Internet trolls, experts, and others seemed to have strong opinions on what exactly was essential for everyone last year (and this year, as we're not quite out of the woods yet).
A Brief Detour
In January, I started making rows of square stitch with my seed beads, thinking that I'd make a book cover that way. Near the end of the month I glued the beaded piece to the wood rectangle (my book form) and absolutely hated it. The stitches weren't uniform and glue had seeped out in places and ruined the finish on the some of the beads. I'd initially decided that parts of this quote would be stamped on several narrow rectangles of metal that I would arrange across the book cover. But the angled metal pieces turned out to be difficult to work around and left gaps despite my best efforts. This is the point in a project where I often press on despite my growing dismay at the results: I've already spent money on this! I've already put in so many hours!
In economics, there's a phrase "sunk cost fallacy" that describes this idea. Basically, people keep something going even though it's not working because they've already invested so much time, energy, or money in it. Common examples might be staying in a bad relationship or keeping your money in a certain investment.
In mid-February (roughly a month before the deadline), I decided to start over with a bead embroidery version that had the quote stamped on a single larger piece of metal. How did I know this was the right decision? I felt so happy after I started it! I suddenly had a burst of new creative energy which carried me through to the end.
Techniques and Materials
For this project, I tried to use materials I already owned such as the bead backing and metal bead caps. I finished my spool of WildFire beading thread. With the snowy weather, it was hard to get more immediately, so I switched to One-G thread for part of the stitching. I did not like it quite as much for this type of work, as the thread felt more slippery and my needle fell into the sofa cushions more often.
I did buy some new size 11 seed beads in an iris teal/green color, assorted shaped beads, and gold glass pearls. I tried some new-to-me beading needles from Tulip that I'd been hearing about for years and thought that they held up well. I used up the entire tube of seed beads just before finishing, but luckily I had another partially used tube that was very similar (teal with more gold highlights) that I used to finish.
After I finished beading the book cover, I decided that for expediency, I should group all the flowers together in two rows rather than scatter them around. The final results do look more like a flower garden.
I used a 6-inch piece of cardboard to temporarily lay out my design. The finished piece uses walnut as a background. The wood reminded me both of the outdoors and also the tremendous amount of wood (floors, doors, cupboards, bookshelves) in my house where I spent a lot of 2020. To make the interior pages of the book I used a block of wood painted with gold edges. The book spine is embellished with ribbon.
Last Thoughts
One of the challenges of a group show or project can be how to stay true to yourself while also honoring the parameters set by the organizers. On that point I feel I did well: the finished piece feels like me with two of my favorite themes (flowers and books) and favorite mixed media materials (metals, wood, ribbon, beads) and techniques (bead embroidery, hand stamping, painting).
However, it's not perfect. Some of the beaded rows aren't quite straight and could be kindly described as "organic" in nature. But even worse, after shipping the piece I found some stray threads sticking up among the flowers in my close-up photos. Arrgh! I'd checked the beading and hadn't see anything, but the camera's focus is often better at catching those details than the human eye. I initially felt mortified about these imperfections. I'd worked so hard to make a polished piece! But after a little reflection, I concluded that the fact that my attention to detail was a little off just highlighted another theme of this project. My attention in 2020 often felt scattered. It was also a year where many things fell short of my previous expectations. I reminded myself that this square would be a small piece of an amazing group display currently estimated at more than 500 submissions. It's unlikely that the average viewer would focus on the close-up details of my work. That made me breathe more easily. Sometimes you are the teacher expertly directing the theme of your work and sometimes the work teaches you!