Just as for two years every purchase in my life seemed to be classified under “after Italy,” there are lots of art-related wishes that have been classified as under “after grad school.” These include lessons in papermaking, basketry, knitting, and chair caning, with occasional forays into weaving, felting, painting, slab pottery, etc. I guess what is telling is that when I get a catalog for Penland School of Crafts or John C. Campbell Folk School, I look first for fiber classes that use natural materials gathered from the immediate environment. And “after grad school” is rapidly approaching.

Learning to make paper has been on my to-do list for a long time now. My friend Martha was a fiber artist who made sculptural pieces with reed, wood, and paper, as well as fantastic random weave baskets. I taught myself to make the random weave baskets a few years ago, and I’ve dabbled in some other basketry, but I need a teacher to help me figure out some of the technicalities, including incorporating natural found objects into these pieces. Martha is not around any more.

Saturday, I received some great news that was at the same time awful news. I have a friend who is a papermaker and book artist, who shares my interest in many areas, including food. She is seriously cool, and I’ve often thought that I would like to study papermaking under her. She uses a lot of different materials, such as okra stalks, to create lovely functional art from stuff that might have been thrown out or composted.

So I run into her at the Greensboro Farmers’ Curb Market, and she says, “Hey, didn’t you go to Spannocchia?”

“Yes, I did and I loved it!” And I’m constantly scheming about how to go back one day.

“I’m teaching a class in book arts there this summer. Debby helped me set it up.”

First reaction: “Do you need an assistant?”

Well, no, she doesn’t, but we had a conversation about the class and Spannocchia. I gave her my website address and my email and the little wheels in my brain have been whirring ever since.

I’m the obsessive type - I get an idea in my head and I worry it to death or to completion, one or the other. The fact is, though, if I am to do this, it will have to be done within my simple living philosophy.

Another friend said to me yesterday, “So, you’re in Greensboro, and this teacher is in Greensboro. So why is it that you have to go to Italy for this class? Oh yeah, BECAUSE IT’S IN ITALY!” She was joking, but she made a point that I have been seriously considering for quite some time.

I don’t write about it specifically here often, preferring to let my actions speak for themselves, but I am very serious about voluntary simplicity. Jetting over to Europe does not fit within that philosophy very well, especially now that I’m talking about twice within one year. So I’ll get my shoehorn out here, and invite your comments.

There are as many interpretations of voluntary simplicity as there are people. Foreign travel is not included in most versions. It’s expensive, it is generally unnecessary, and air travel is damaging to the environment in the cost of fossil fuels. I’m painfully aware of that.

On the other hand, I believe that at the crux of voluntary simplicity is the commitment to what will help you to grow as a person, and adjusting your budget and workload to allow you the time and the ability to live your life in a meaningful way. An important part of this is the resistance to cluttering your life with a lot of stuff for stuff’s sake. For me, there is a spiritual component in that by reducing my desire for things that I don’t really need, I am bringing peace to my soul and freeing up mental space and energy to look at other more important needs. Voluntary simplicity doesn’t mean voluntary poverty to me - it means the reorganization of one’s priorities to the non-material joys of living. Creating gardens and art are very high on my priority list.

So I have a real jones for this trip and this class that I don’t need, and could live my life very comfortably without it, although with a gnawing regret that I missed an opportunity for an experience that could send me in the direction that I am meant to go, that everything for the last few years seems to be pointing me toward. That might be my inner three-year-old child talking, who wants what she wants when she wants it. But it seems significant to me.

If I am to go on this trip, I will want to do it with the following “rules,” just as I did with the October trip:

  1. It will be on a cash basis. I will earn and save the money beforehand, and although I will use credit cards, I’ll pay them off each month and not let interest accrue.
  2. I will raise the money without reducing the amount that I give to charity or non-profit organizations whose missions I support, or what I need to continue the development of my urban homestead as planned.
  3. I will raise the money without creating added stress for myself or my husband. This may mean that I will have to pony up for car payments, or house repairs. So I can’t put every spare penny into this project.

Practicalities

I have the vacation time, and it would take place during a time that is very slow at work. My boss has already said no problem.

I still have a little money left over that I did not spend on the October trip, so that would kick off the campaign. If I put aside $200 per month through the end of June, I believe that I would have enough to finance the room and board.

Wild cards are air fare and the dollar. I don’t know how much air fares might go up between now and then. The dollar keeps falling against the euro. The last I heard the exchange rate was one euro = $1.33 - ouch.

Ways to raise the money:

  • Cut back on eating out for lunch to one lunch with the girls per week. This should save me about $100 per month. Cutting back on other small extras could raise this to $150.
  • Yard sales.
  • Sell used books on Amazon.
  • Work a short-term temp job in the evenings this spring - this by itself would take care of it, however, this would violate rule #2 (time to develop my garden) and #3 (added stress).
  • Less reliable: Make some more beaded jewelry or scarves or paintings to sell at the gallery. Cons: I have never been able to rely on selling art or craft. My eyesight is aging. Christmas season is basically over - bad timing. I don’t know if the new manager of the gallery would want my scarves or artwork or more jewelry, for that matter. Pro: I have most of the supplies that I would need, so I would lose nothing but the time.
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