The Stitch Book: Week 28 (July 7-13)

Back in 2017, I had the opportunity to attend a Fresh Talk at the National Museum of Women in the Arts, the museum where I'm a volunteer docent. Judy Chicago, one of my favorite artists, was in conversation with Alison Gass, a curator and museum director. At some point in the conversation, Chicago and Gass were talking about the cyclical nature of history. Chicago talked about how we (the royal we of humanity) take part in these cycles of push back and erasure in history. It's our job to fight back against the erasure, that's protest. That's art. I wrote about the talk on my old blog if you want to check it out. 

Anyway, I've been thinking about this talk recently. Things feel bleak right now. I don't know about anyone else, but I find it challenging to care about certain things, like people annoying me at work or a neighbor who won't pick up after their dog, because there are so many other things that need attention. We're in a place that feels eerily like 2016. People, some of whom I used to trust and feel were smart people, are playing into another cycle of disinformation and it's painful to watch. People who told me I was being hysterical in 2016 are finally coming to terms with the reality that the former guy and the assholes who support him want for this country. And the fact that I was not being hysterical But instead of making a choice to pick someone who isn't going to turn this country into one large internment camp, they'd rather give the former guy a pass and set the country up for failure. 

These thoughts were swirling around in my head at the end of June while I was starting to consider options for upcoming weeks for this year's project. I was scrolling on Twitter (it will always be Twitter), and saw a tweet from one of my favorite lawyers on the internet, Elie Mystal. If you're not familiar with Mystal, he's a lawyer, journalist, and political commentator. His book, Allow Me to Retort: A Black Guy's Guide to the Constitution, was one of the best books I read in 2023. He's also a columnist for The Nation. 

Here's the tweet I saw:

You can view the replies here.

I wasn't expecting him to tweet the lyrics to one of my favorite songs from a musical "The Flesh Failures/Let the Sunshine In" from the rock musical Hair. The replies are interesting. Some people knew the song and replied with the rest of the lyrics or the chorus or commented on how much they love the song. Other people asked him if he was writing poetry or didn't seem to know what was happening. After I saw the tweet, I couldn't get the song out of my head. So, of course, I decided to make the song this week's theme. 

Then I thought about the song and thought about it some more. If you're not familiar with the song or the musical, Hair was one of the original rock musicals, written in 1967 by James Rado, Gerome Ragni, and Galt MacDermot. It was about the peace movement and protesting and drugs and sex and activism. It was controversial for its time, specifically for the political themes, drug use, and nudity (the cast strips down to nothing at the end of Act One). The show was protested as being indecent and immoral, but struck a chord with its power and songs of hope. At the time, it pushed limits of what was considered acceptable on Broadway and songs from the show have been recorded by a variety of artists from The Fifth Dimension to The Lemonheads and Run-DMC (they sampled "Where Do I Go?" for their song "Down With the King"). 

The original cast recording from the 1968 production was one of the first CDs I bought. I had listened to the record (borrowing it from the library) countless times and had seen the 1979 movie version, but the original cast recording lives in my brain. From "The Age of Aquarius" to "Hair" to "Easy to Be Hard" to "Where Do I Go?" to "Walking in Space" to "The Flesh Failures/Let the Sunshine In," I couldn't listen to it enough. There are lots more songs in between, but those are some of my favorites. "The Flesh Failures/Let the Sunshine In" (it's three songs in current production of the show, but I'm going to use the original title), is the last song of the show. Before this song, Claude, one of the main characters, has said he wants to be invisible. His draft number gets called and the Tribe (the rest of the cast) can't see him anymore. The song is Claude's reaction to being called up (and dying) and the Tribe dealing with his loss. If you've never heard the original version, you can listen to it here.

After listening to the song another 20 times (added to the hundreds of times I've listened to it over the years), I decided to stitch the entire song over the course of the next five weeks (Weeks 28-32). Since the song is sung by various cast members, I'll use thread colors to differentiate between them. Claude, who starts the song, will be in black. The first time the Tribe sings will be in red, Sheila and Dionne in gray, and the second time the Tribe sings will be in yellow. Each week I'll share more about the action of the show as this song unfolds. 

I had the opportunity to see a production of Hair last Sunday at Signature Theatre. It was a wonderful production and I'm glad I caught the last day of the run. In his welcome message, Signature's Artistic Director, Matthew Gardiner, commented on the parallels between 1968, when Hair premiered on Broadway and today, fifty-six years later. He writes, "...we are in a moment of immense social and political upheaval and the young people of today are demanding a revolution in thought and breaking free from the constructs set by their parents. In speaking out against injustice, inequality and corruption they dare to imagine a world that is more free and honest. To me, Hair is not merely a period piece to illuminate a time in our past. There is so much to reflect upon and learn about our present."

Here's this week's piece:

July 7

July 8

July 9

July 10

July 11

July 12

July 13

Week 28 - Verse 1 of "The Flesh Failures/Let the Sunshine In"

Weeks 1-28

Week 29's color is canvas.

Random Things That Brought Me Joy This Week

I cannot stress enough how important it is right now to find joy in things, no matter how small the thing may seem. We're all dealing with a lot of stuff right now and it's not going to ease up anytime soon. I found joy in some relatively small things this week and it made a huge difference. 

Experimenting with my sourdough starters - this is a combination of starter from Doris (my main starter) and Edith (her child). Edith is a backup starter and I've never baked from her. The dough is resting now, so we'll see how this combo comes out tomorrow when I bake it.

Tiny pies! We had an employee appreciation event at work on Tuesday and I brought home tiny pies. I love tiny food and I love pie so this was amazing.

I participated in a book club challenge in June organized by two people I follow on Instagram, Mortician in the Kitchen and Death Project Manager. They sent me stickers to celebrate the end of the challenge. The high of summer reading is something we all chase for the rest of our lives. 

Look at this guy from Trader Joe's! I'm currently calling him Big Stretch until I think of a better name. He joins Elton John the Plant and Divine the Flamingo on the mantle of wild stuff I collect. I now have 5 plants in my house that are all alive and doing well. Wild.