Today I decided to go ahead and put the last coat of polyurethane on my screens that I talked about back in this post. I've slowly been plodding away at it during the week, braving as much of the heat wave as I can stand.
(Side note: Kathy left a comment that she couldn't stand the odor from polyurethane. I'm using the water based one and doing it outside and there's practically no smell at all. And I'm pretty wimpy about those things so if I think that, then its good.)
My surface design idol, Carol, also left a comment on the post where I talked about painting the frames saying that she tapes off the mesh while she's applying the poly to avoid accidental drips on the mesh. Awesome advice.
Wish I would have listened.
I thought I was super careful but when I picked up one screen today I noticed a thin brush stroke that trailed right smack through the middle of the screen. I stared at it. I could see all the times in my studio when I would go to the trouble of charging a screen with dye and constantly printing that empty gap in the pattern.
I admit that I scowled at it.
I put the screen back in a tray and moved on to the other ones. And I kept thinking about it. What a waste. What an annoying glitch in my plans. So much prep work to be ruined by such a simple little mistake. Drat.
And then I realized how foolish I was being. My plans for screen printing revolved around not being careful. I wanted a randomness (controlled to an extent so I can come out the other end with something I like), an organic feel.
Isn't that what that little brush stroke was going to give me? I picked the screen back up and looked closer. Then I took my brush, dipped it in the polyurethane and started dripping, swiping, brushing along the surface of the screen.
I blocked more areas, created a pattern, permanently altered the screen into something that would generate images I would love.
Its not about fighting the mistakes, its about learning to walk side by side with them to see what they can teach us.