On this celebratory day forty years after the United States landed the manned spacecraft Apollo 11 on the moon’s surface, I observed my own personal victory by way of a different craft.
It was, however, with depressed spirit that my day started off, begrudgingly aware that I had not been holding up to my declared end of the bargain. But, to submerse myself in a craft that most likely would offend tried-and-true crafters and virtually humiliate me has been a real hurdle to overcome. In the hierarchy of skilled craft, using a commercial kit and calling it a true craft is similar to popping a Lean Cuisine in the microwave and calling it “homemade,” no? If so, I’m guilty as charged. Alas, the snazzy Armour Etch Deluxe Glass Etching Kit brimming with innumerable hokey stencils of jolly snowmen and corny love phrases was at $24.95 something I could afford to write about.
I am not nor have ever been someone who by nature derives pleasure from crafting. Before this, it was very unlikely that I would have been spotted on the hunt for the next project to begin, thrilled that I had come across a new material or craft resource to investigate. I am most comfortable in my status as the curious observer who gets joy from mulling over someone elses’s finished work.
A first pass through of the directions, written imperceptibly small and with abundant references to non-descriptive visuals, was enough to warrant a toss in the garbage. I huffed and fumed at those sly marketers who back when the most recent version of this kit was developed (probably in the 90s as the garish, dated box cover attests) advertised this as “3 simple steps”! BAIT AND SWITCH, BAIT AND SWITCH, I proclaim! (Stick with me because I was and often am bombarded with thoughts of ineptitude when it comes to building things and following directions, which leads to spasms of paranoia and a fair share of grumbling ;-).
The Armour Etch brochure showcasing a smattering of fancy flower stencils.
Recounting my sentiments and logic, all the above hemming and hawing is admittedly nonsensical, even asnine! With relative ease, I did create an impeccable rendition of a lighthouse nestled on a rocky ocean shore. The quaint 4x 4 in. glass image happily reminds me of the famous Twin Lights off Gloucester’s Good Harbor Beach, where my parents live and I enjoy lazy weekend visits. In sum, the emotion, the satisfaction, the power, and the fear that enveloped me as I impatiently clawed at the last blue bits of stencil hiding the etch from view can be described as one of deep fulfillment. Below, a scene similar to Gloucester’s Twin Lights:
A tranquil scene eteched in glass. Well worth the internal tumult!
I suppose we all have our judgments, which really are tools we use to hold ourselves back. From the outset, I judged my ability to create with confidence, fearful that I would be unable to handle frustration and failure should things not go as they should. Instead, I chalked up any possible incompetence to the hackneyed concept of the at-home crafting kit, which I reasoned would qualify me a fool if I took it seriously and actually tried to do well. Of course, with this clever equation, I would never let myself down.
Completing this craft exercise banished the Monday blues, etching a surprising last impression. I, in fact, rather like and appreciate — ah em, uh — kitschy seascapes. Whoever thought I could be so clueless to not know that about myself.
