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traveling and teaching

Originally posted on I am Pam Holland:
I fly from place to place. From class to class, venue to venue. I carry heavy luggage, often beyond? my physical capabilities. From? the plane I view in silence great expanses of the world. Life continues below me, I’m invisible above. I reach my destination, the comfort of a hotel room, it’smy home away from home. Sometimes, I am anxious at staying with unknown people. Inevitably they become? friends, but the experiences never diminish the initial anxiety. I’m nervous but excited the night before a class. I prepare well and face the class with great expectation. My classes flow, the students succeed. I strive for perfection in my work and rarely have a problem. I enjoy being with my students and take pride in their success. I love giving lectures/ presentations, the interaction with the audience is just like having? a having a cuppa with friends. There is camaraderie amongst tutors, we learn a lot from each other. We laugh, share stories and sometimes strategies After a few…

Time goes too fast sometimes – wish I could put the brakes on.

There is a pile of vintage quilts in the room I use waiting to be shipped home. In the mean time I sleep on and under them at each visit and the challenge of the bargain and the purchase is exciting. I keep those memories fresh when I use them daily in my home in Australia. The pasts have flown over the ocean and the hands that worked them are appreciated more than the maker ever imagined.
What stories they could tell, but by using them, they are bought to life again.

That’s the value of teaching.

I’ve been drawing and writing patterns today as I travel. This is one I’ve done before, but it’s been prepared for thread stitching now. I don’t know how other teachers design and prepare a class. It’s one of those things that are never really discussed when we meet socially. I mean I don’t think it’s a secret, maybe it’s one of those things that you’re never certain about yourself, and if you share it, you might be embarrassed that others see you as a bit of a phony. I guess anyone can design a pattern and sell it to others who have never had the thought to produce one. Some are so darn ordinary. I think….. “Oh my goodness. I’m sure I’ve seen something like that before. It’s just different fabric”. And yes I have, but is anything new in Textile Art? It’s not right, it’s not wrong, it’s out there for the consumer. My ideas come from the need to create and they come from some unknown source. I make no bones about that. …

I folded my dreams into my every day life – I became a Textile Artist.

I love art, photography, textiles, threads and sewing machines. But goodness me I don’t pretend to be an expert in everything.
I just have great confidence in what I do in my own preferred genres and what I can achieve, which has led me to share my ideas and techniques with others who love the same things as I do.

I folded my dreams into my everyday life.

Observations. – and admiration for a small US country town.

The Saturdays are slipping off the other end of the calendar and new ones are lining up for the rest of the trip. I have four more to experience, more interesting people to meet and a few more adventures to experience before I get to go home.

I’ve had two Saturdays in Costa Rica, Two in Mexico, one in California, two Saturdays were in India, the next was Oman, then 2 in Dubai, one in NY, and now today in upstate NY. I gave in and slept for a few hours this afternoon.

Yes, of course there are times when I have to stop and think…. ‘now where am I’ but I honestly do know where I am, these images are from upstate New York taken last week

Traveling – on the road for 65 days – So far.

It takes planning, patience, persistence and perseverance.

Sometimes I’m a little short on some of those things, but to be honest, out of the 100’s of people I’ve met on this tour only one person fell short of my expectation. I’ve traveled around the world and flown, to seven countries on lots of flights and I’m still smiling.

The Women’s Souk of Ibra, – no men allowed.

“Once per week this souk, opposite the main souk, attracts women-only buyers and sellers from all over the region, selling a variety of handicrafts such as baskets, woven cushions and camel bags. Men are not welcome and photographs are prohibited in the only souk in the country dedicated to female shoppers.”

This was the only information I could find on the web regarding the Souk we were about to visit. As far as not taking photos, I asked permission and a few ladies said no, but most of them said yes.

The pit weaver of Oman – A traveling Quilters Joy.

We were welcomed into their house. The entire family assembled to meet us. Father and two of the sons showed us the weaving, but I sort of lost something in the translation. I don’t think the Father is doing it any more because of his poor eyesight.
We were ushered into the main room of the house which was painted bright yellow. Around the 4 walls as sumptuous seating.

Chikan Embroidery, funny name, wonderful technique.

Whilst in India, I came across Chikan embroidery and my friend Anju, helped me understand it a little.

Chikan is a traditional embroidery style from Lucknow, India. Literally translated, the word means embroidery. Believed to have been introduced by Nur Jehan, the wife of Mughal emperor Jahangir, it is one of Lucknow’s best known textile decoration styles. The market for local chikan is mainly in Chowk, Lucknow.

The Tuk Tuks of Delhi – then again it could be a rickshaw.

How does one describe a drive in Delhi traffic in a tuk tuk at 7.30 at night.
Of course its dark with the lights of thousands of cars, bikes and tuk tuks just inches from each other illuminating the night. The fact that there is a bus just inches from your exposed arm on the door side of the vehicle is just common place, so suck it up honey.
Every one of those thousands had a hand on the horn….the noise is deafening and you just accept it.