Vacuum vs. Choirgirl

I distinctly remember the moment in grad school when I became absolutely sure I didn't want to be a conservator. It was when I was vacuuming a textile in my conservation class and it took FOREVER because museum vacuuming has to be done with a small nozzle, one spot at a time. No dragging. You have to pick the nozzle up and put it down on each inch of the fabric. I thought I would go insane.

Little did I realize that even if I avoided becoming a conservator, I would still have to vacuum things. It is one of the best ways to clean fabric without wet cleaning (which introduces a whole lot of risks), so I've been doing a lot of vacuuming. Most of the projects have been small, but last Friday I had a big one.

We have this large, gorgeous kimono that is going on exhibit at the new museum. I found a bug carcass on it (luckily, no sign of active infestation) and so it was decided that the best thing to do was to give it a thorough vacuuming. Somehow I imagined it wouldn't be bad.

My iPod has been having trouble holding a charge, so I left it at home and figured I could use my computer to play pandora or something. It didn't take long to figure out that crappy internet speakers + sound of vacuum = no audible music. So I vacuumed in silence. I got through about one twelfth of the exterior and already felt like my brain was about to bleed. I started alternating between tiny sections of the kimono and long breaks in my office.

At lunch we had a special staff & volunteer holiday potluck. While we ate there was a slideshow of MOHAI people at events and at work. I was in one picture, and I was vacuuming something. It was like I could hear fate cackling, "Clara Berg! Welcome to your life!"

After lunch I returned to the conservation lab and tried to think of a way to keep my brain from going completely numb. I had only finished a small fraction of the project and had a lot to go. So I did the most reasonable thing I could think of: I started singing Christmas music to myself. It wasn't the kind of music you hear at the mall, but solid, old-timey carols that I learned in various choirs. Personet Hodie, The Wexford Carol, In Dulci Jubilo, Jesus Christ the Apple Tree, and the like. Music for Christmas nerds. I hoped that the vacuum would mostly drown me out but I noticed people giving me strange looks as they walked past. So I started waving and shouting "Yep! I'm singing to myself! How is it going with you?!" My defense against insanity looked a lot like the condition itself.

The amazing thing was that it totally worked. I stayed focused and happy, and the work seemed to just fly by. By the end of the day I was almost finished.

On Monday I completed the project, but decided to do everyone a favor and brought in my iPod and its charger. I resisted the temptation to sing along.