I was accused, by association, of being a dilettante in
1994 at the Bread Loaf Writers Conference, a famous American summer writing institute
founded by Robert Frost. My accuser, naming herself a “serious writer,” complained
loudly one afternoon about having to share space and intellectual resources
with “middle-aged dilettantes playing at being writers.”
Dilettante stung, but I didn’t feel the need to defend
myself. No, I had never been enrolled in an MFA program in creative writing and
no, I hadn’t published a book. But I had written and sold feature articles to
regional magazines and I had edited a national magazine with my husband for a
time. I had solid writing skills and I hoped that I would be able to write a
book. After all, I came to Bread Loaf to learn.
Three decades later, I am ready to embrace the
description of dilettante for myself. The word applies to the lover of an art
rather than its skilled practitioner. It usually implies elegant trifling in
the arts and an absence of serious commitment. Why would I claim this dubious label?
A recent incident may help you understand.
Last fall, my quilt guild offered a class for making
quilted tennis shoes. I heard about it at a monthly guild meeting. “OMG,” I
thought, “How much fun would that be?” I signed up for it on the spot, got the
class instruction sheet and began prepping for the event. I had to make a quilt
to cut up for the uppers and buy a kit with the outer and inner soles, plus all
the equipment I would need.
This wasn’t an inexpensive undertaking. Quilts are
deceptively expensive to make: good fabric costs upwards of $13 a yard and they
take time and skill. The shoe kit and tools set me back more than $100. The
class itself added to the cost. My exciting new shoes were about to be the most
expensive sneakers I had ever owned. I didn’t care.
It feels great to say that I made the quilted tennis
shoes. I had quilted fabric left over, so I decided to make a matching purse. I'd never made a purse before, but I bought a By Annie pattern (all the rage in
crafting circles right now) and set my sights on something else new. When I read
the pattern, it baffled me completely.
Head spinning, I gave up on the idea until I heard that
there would be a By Annie purse class at my local quilt store. I paid the fees
and acquired the needed fabric and hardware for my purse project. All told, the
purse cost almost $150 to make, more than I have ever paid for a purse
in a store.
I’m as proud of the quilted purse as I am of the
sneakers. Will I ever make another pair of shoes or another purse? A guarded maybe
is all I can muster.
I wore the sneakers and carried the purse to the Easter
service at my church yesterday. A few people noticed them and I delighted in
their surprise to learn I crafted them myself. I posted a photo on Facebook and
enjoyed the many lovely comments friends and family made about them.
I appreciated the kind words, but I didn’t feel special—I just felt like myself.
I am a curious person. I get intrigued by ideas and, when the opportunity
happens, I like to try new things. Always have, always will. That doesn’t mean
I am going to dedicate myself to it, though. I am going to be a dilettante and
dabble. I have dabbled in so many things over 75 years.
A few decades ago, I saw an article about Edward Albee
teaching a playwriting class at the University of Houston. How exciting would
that be, to take a class from an American icon? I wrote a play (my first) and
submitted it. Lo and behold, I got in and the next year I got into his New
Playwrights class, too. The play was produced at a regional theater. I got paid
to write a second play that was produced on Mackinac Island. Pretty exciting
stuff, but I haven’t seriously undertaken playwriting. Dilettante, right?
I spent several years intrigued by silk ribbon embroidery
and made quite a few pretty things, but that’s over now. Dilettante. I can crochet
and had an afghan period, but that’s done. Dilettante. I made scarves for a
while, gave away or sold many, wear some, but that’s done. Dilettante. I’ve
taken a class on felting wool, pretty neat but not a keeper. Dilettante. I
could go on because I am apparently endlessly curious, and I delight in trying new
things. I will spare you the details.
A few things have stuck. I’ve been making quilts since
2004 and I am pretty good at that. These days, I’m more interested in small art
quilts. I learned how to make reverse appliqué quilts at a class in about 2010.
I fell in love with reverse appliqué and have made (and continue to make) many,
all but the very first one designed and executed by me. That’s an
accomplishment I am very proud of.
My writing is serious. I started my blog in 2004 and have
posted 237 short essays, including 38 since last July. My book (may it find a
publishing home soon) has been written and rewritten multiple times over 30 years
and has settled into its final (please!) form at 119,020 words. That’s serious,
Bread Loaf notwithstanding.
I can be serious, but I have a lot of fun being a
dilettante. Dabbling is good for the soul IMHO. As soon as another intriguing
class turns up, I’m sure I’ll be off on another tangent. I’ll wear the label
dilettante with the same relish I wore my new sneakers and purse on Easter.
What dilettantish fun have you had lately? And if your
answer is none, why not??
Ciao
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