Ms. Crafty learns a new craft

Another country, another new craft... Or maybe two. But I'll hold off on sharing about the second one. First things first and all.

I have been wanting to try batik for decades, literally. I think I was still in elementary school when I first decided that I want to make my own fabric. And tie die did not cut it. Over the years, I've looked into fabric and yarn dying classes but couldn't work up the courage to fork over a handful of hard-earned dollars to make it happen.

That is, until Bali. Things here are affordable. And Indonesia is the center of modern batik. The tradition of dying fabrics with a wax resist dates back a long time, some say more than 1,500 years. The last couple hundred years, Indonesians living in Java have really pushed the art form farther and, lucky for me, my instructor Widya grew up in Java and has been practicing his craft in Bali for the last 25 years.

So what exactly does batik entail and what did I make this time? Well, as the saying goes, a picture is a worth a thousand words....

First I drew on paper some elephants I'd seen in South Africa's natural park. Then, I traced those onto my white cotton fabric, along with some lotus flowers and other greenery.

Next, it was time to get waxed! Not me, silly. Rather, it was time for me to attempt to retrace my pencil lines using hot wax that drips from a special tool called a chanting (or djanting, depending on who's spelling it). Yes, this wax hurts when you drip it on yourself as I inevitably discovered firsthand.

When I was done with the chanting, Kumon (Widya's brother-in-law) held my fabric up to the light, noting where it had not soaked through and then retouched my work. A lot.

Then it was time for the wax stamps. One of ways to speed up the batik process is to use bronze stamps dipped in wax and then applied to the fabric. This is also a handy way of making repetitious designs and covering the edge of the fabric which is more challenging than the middle.

With the first round of waxing done, it was finally time to paint! and paint-by-numbers I did.

 

I even made a cheat sheet of my design with colored pencils indicating my choices.

Using this handy color swatch as a guide. (Luckily I'm not the only Type A person in this craft!)

After the first round of painting was through, I opted to do another layer of waxing. This is totally optional, but it makes for more complicated and beautiful designs. It also takes longer, making mine a two-day project. And again proving that persistence leads to perfection... Or at least interesting results.

After waxing, comes painting. Again I relied on my trusty notes and Kumon helped out so as to speed things along.

Once the second layer of ink was dry, it was time to dunk my work five times:

1. First in the fixative so the dyes would be permanent,
2. Then in cold water to rinse off the fixing chemicals,
3. Next in hot water to melt off the wax (be sure to stir well with a big stick!),
4. Then back into the fixative to preserve the dye which was under the second layer of wax, and
5. Finally back into the cold water for one last rinse.

Then hang to dry and celebrate!

I know you are all so impressed with my handiwork, but just in case you're having a tough time imagining what one might create in 5 days on a single project, here are some shots of Widya's and Kumon's beautiful works:

And since 2 days wasn't enough for me, I'm planning to head back into Widya's batik studio this weekend for another go.

 

Do nothing and feel better

I have discovered a new approach to my health. I essentially do nothing and yet feel better. Truly. Want in on my secret? It's called Yin Yoga.

So technically it's something, not nothing. But the practice is a lot like doing nothing as your muscles aren't supposed to be actively working. Instead you get into a position, find the point at which you can't go deeper, back off 20-30% (or sometimes more), and then prop yourself up so that your muscles can just relax. The result? A deeper release... all the way in your body's connective tissue. Poses are "held" for 3-5 minutes in which you essentially just try to relax, breathe and let go. Yawning is encouraged. In fact, the less you actively do, the better.

I tried Yin Yoga for the first time a little over a week ago. It was surreal.

As I lay in a somewhat contorted, but well supported back bend tears streamed down my face. It was nearly the end of my first Yin Yoga class and I tried not to be self-conscious while crying in a room of 30+ strangers. Although the purpose of the pose was to release the chest, laying with my feet tucked under me had unwound some of the damaged tissue from my accident nearly 7 months prior. In a moment of supreme clarity I realized why I had broken my feet.

No, I'm not talking about the fact that I made a bunch of bad decisions all in a row. Although, yes, that is true too. I'm referring to why it was necessary for me to break my feet.

Your feet are your foundation. Obviously. But strangely as my yoga instructor said this and as the fascia in my feet released some of their tension, I realized that breaking my feet created an opportunity for me to rediscover and redefine who I am at my core.

I grew up with the stereotypical expectations to which most women in the United States are accustomed. I would get married, have children and live happily ever after. And while I am married and happy, the assumption that I would have children has been plaguing me for years. That is, until I broke my feet and spent a month living in Oregon being introspective. It was in that safe and undistracted space that I was finally able to really embrace the truth that I do not want children.

Let me repeat that:

I do not want children.

I will not be having or raising children.

And I will live happily ever after.

Traveling around the world with my husband I have had so many people ask me how many kids we have. And when I say zero, the second question is always the same: when will we? (Or alternatively: what are you waiting for?!) For months I have felt uncomfortable telling these people that I don't want to raise children. My hope is that through this Yin Yoga practice, I can embrace my reworked foundation and confidently conclude future conversations on this topic with a simple: "no, none for me ever, thank you."

For those of you who were excited by the prospect of doing nothing and feeling better for it, don't fret. You too can practice Yin Yoga without fear of wanting to disown your children. That's not to say you won't find some other odd insight buried in your connective tissue, but I think it's doubtful that your revelations will be the same as mine. And perhaps you too will be delighted to get to know yourself better.

And for anyone who is wondering if I cry every time I do Yin Yoga... thankfully, that's only happened once. In fact, I laughed my way through another class were we shoved tennis balls into uncomfortable places like under our ribcages, which turned out to be a most excellent way to heal my bloated gut. After every class, I have found new space, mobility and/or flexibility in my body. And all for the high price of lounging like a ragdoll.