Hello World, this is a picture of panel E3 fully assembled and stitched.
The first of a long list, considering all the delays I had to go through, including rebuilding an old computer from miscellaneous parts to jump-start an old plotter, failing at its access, finally fixing it, and then receiving sponsorship support from Neal Pryde to use their plotter (which, by the way, draws and CUTS the sailcloth, saving me a LOT of time). This little panel is still very satisfying.
Looking at this panel, I can’t help thinking about what it took to get here and what it will take to assemble this Venturi effect on a party dress that is the Wind Playground.
I’m not only talking about organization, fundraising, work ethic, and technical knowledge. That is indeed part of an amazing growth that I am still undertaking.
The most crucial skill I had to learn is how to change, evolve under tension, bend under heavy storms, and snap back. So far, so good.
As a result, I might have way more gray hair than I wished for, but I am deeply thankful for all the amazing people who have supported me on this mad journey, for everything I have learned, and for all I will be learning by the time Wind Playground is installed at Sculpture by the Sea.
This project is both a hell of a challenge and an amazing adventure.
Starting from a vision, it grew, first as a maquette, then a prototype, and I have jumped in headfirst ever since. The adrenaline rush has yet to subside.
Today, I picked up the phone to talk to a complete stranger about WPG and ask for sponsorship. A few months ago, that same man might have found himself talking to a woman tied in a knot and possibly hiding in a cocoon of her own making to cope with the tension and discomfort.
A year ago, I would never have made that call.
In addition to that, it has been a lifelong struggle to be comfortable with writing because of dyslexia. Now I write constantly; I need to write to keep this project alive, and in a foreign language, no less. It’s not perfect, and it never will be, but it’s not important, and I am no longer afraid.
About two weeks ago, I started working on an assembly line to build and stitch the Wind Playground together. The challenge is stitching this massive sculpture while keeping the large, complete part of the sail on the outside of the sewing machine. This is because inside the arm of the sewing machine, there isn’t enough space to pass the sailcloth through, which means I need to create an assembly method that guarantees each piece of sail is added in a way that, throughout the entire project, the larger piece of sail— which will be quite substantial by the end— remains on the outside of the sewing machine.
To solve this, I found myself writing equations. It came to me as a full 3-dimensional living system, and I wrote equations for hours.
I haven’t touched algebra since I was 19!
I know it sounds crazy, but it works!
This experience has taught me courage, trained my intuition, and given me the trust to follow it. I faced my shortcomings and had to learn how to accept them and turn them into opportunities… Still learning, actually.
If everything had gone as planned, I would have learned nothing.
I would have explored nothing. I would have challenged nothing.
I would still be roaming in a safe meadow, completely unaware of the potential one unlocks if one has the courage to follow a vision, instinct, and hope—and in a way, take responsibility to undertake the risk.
Thank you, Wind Playground, for that. All of this was possible because of all of you.
I want to thank everyone—people, organizations, foundations, and companies—that supported Wind Playground and will continue to do so.
Some of you supported financially, and some donated equipment, materials, or expertise. Some brought me lunch, dinner, smiles, and provided mental and physical relief.
Without you, this incredible adventure wouldn’t be possible, and Wind Playground would still be an idea locked in my mind.
Thank you immensely.
Maia
