One day during a creative nonfiction workshop in my MFA, we discovered that several of us were wearing knit sweaters with horizontal stripes on them. I don’t think the knit, striped sweater was particularly more fashionable that year (but maybe it was – I’m not usually in the know as far as current fashion trends go), so much as it was purely coincidental that so many of us were wearing them that day.
My professor asked for anyone wearing one to stand up and, in turn, see if the sweater was manufactured in such a way so that the stripes on the torso matched up with the ones on the sleeves when the arms hung down naturally. Some matched, others did not.
At first, it struck me as a funny thing to do — to interrupt a graduate class to observe this trivial thing that was outside the scope of our important course readings and workshop essays. But I found, to my surprise, in this seemingly small observation of a pattern, that I had a curious response to it.
Oddly, I felt gratified to see a sweater match up with its sleeves. But towards the sweaters that didn’t line up, but were offset by an inch, I was bothered like an itch. It’s not the matched-up sweaters I remember, but one particular offset one that I can recall most vividly now — there was orange in it, and blue I think. I wanted to fix it, bunch the sleeves up to properly align the colours with the other stripes. At least, I wanted to do so in my mind (I didn’t actually want to do the physical work of unravelling and re-knitting the sleeves).
I believe that it’s common to our humanity to seek for patterns, and to be pleased and delighted when we find them. It allows us to put order to seeming randomness.
But what about when patterns are broken?
As I’ve thought back to the knit striped sweater episode, I’ve been reminded that personal essays are often about disparate things brought together, and written about in some sort of make-sense-edness way, which is like finding a pattern or even a series of patterns, and then presenting these in a way so that the reader can observe it, too.
But it has also occurred to me that essays are also about considering the brokenness of patterns: the two stripes that don’t quite line up, the ones that you wish they would.
It’s the broken pattern, after all, that catches our attention.
If you see books lined up on a shelf, pleasingly color-coordinated and arranged by height, and stacked to fit perfectly snug in the space provided, you are probably not going to notice all the details of the intricate patterns that go into making a shelf of perfectly lined books. At least, not at first.
Rather, your eyes are likely going to be drawn to the two books that are at an odd angle. They break the pattern. This is the point of interest: the two books slightly leaning on their side. Maybe you even want to fix them, the image calling for an action. But if you did try, you’d soon realize that they don’t quite fit perfectly in the space provided. But it’s close though – less than an inch off.
Life does not usually line up perfectly. And when it doesn’t, it catches our attention: often we don’t see the pattern until it is interrupted. It makes life interesting. And it gives us something to write about.
Readers who have been following the blog for awhile have probably observed that there are a few patterns across my blog posts. Some of these I intentionally created for purposes of consistency. Others were embedded simply for my own personal delight. And some I pleasantly discovered after the fact, and when I found them, thought it would be fun to see how long I could continue with them.
As I’ve continued my blog, any time I’ve come to a point in which I’ve broken a pattern, I feel some pang of regret and remorse for having done so. So this post is a reminder to me of both the importance of patterns, and also the necessity in sometimes breaking them (even if I may be bothered by it). But who knows – it may be in the break that the pattern is discovered.
Question: What patterns have you observed lately?
Bonus Question: What patterns and / or breaks in patterns can you find across my blog?
Gift: For a bit of added fun and incentive, to the person who finds the most patterns / breaks and comments first about them on this post, I will send you my second copy of The Art of the Personal Essay.
Guidelines: The patterns / breaks in patterns don’t need to be ones that I’ve intentionally created or have even seen myself. Rather, they only have to be observable. When you find one, make a comment on this post. You can comment multiple times: one for each pattern / break you find. Or you can write several observations in a single post. But remember, it’s a first-observed-and-commented-on, first-pointed, basis. You have from now until I publish my next post.
Where to Look: To find my previously published posts, you can go to 1) the “All-Things Bookish” [now “Archives” on banner] page (organized by category) 2) the Menu at the top left (archived by month) 3) the home page (backwards chronological, with the oldest ones at the bottom), or 4) the “Blog Library” on the top centre (listed by category, though this is incomplete).
Have fun!!!
Commonplace Book Blog 
Not a pattern, but I really liked this thought from this essay: “Life does not usually line up perfectly. And when it doesn’t, it catches our attention: often we don’t see the pattern until it is interrupted.”
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Thanks Emily! 🙂 Glad you liked it.
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I’m thinking about the patterns I’ve observed lately…I’m not sure if I noticed much beyond the similar way in which each of my days unfolds, eerily Ground Hound day-ish! LOL! 😀 However, I’m not a very ordered/pattern-y person. I’m probably considered a “messy”. 😉 I’m curious if you mean ACTUAL patterns like polka dots, stripes, and the like. Or do you mean metaphoric patterns? As far as your blog, there’s a pattern of sharing about your hard-earned MFA, and rightly so. 😉 I’m not sure what’s across your blog, I do know, for the short time I’ve spent here, you enjoy talking about writing, for which I’m grateful. I love your juxtaposition between writing/creating and real life. 🙂
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Yes! Certainly, the similarity of days from one to the next is a pattern! (I’ve felt the same, especially when reviewing my day when I’m about to go to sleep.) Actually, that’s the very kind I was thinking about when I wrote about finding patterns across the posts. I hadn’t thought about patterns like polka dots when I wrote that – though I realize now that the two examples I used were stripes on sweaters, and books lined up! – both visual images. There are patterns in my blog which include the images, but not in the fabric-kind-of-pattern way. 🙂 And so yes, I was thinking more of things which include non-visual patterns (though there are some with an element of the visual,too), but are recurring in some more-or-less continuous manner. Does that make sense?
It’s interesting what you wrote about the “messy” vs “pattern-y” personalities. I hadn’t thought about it that way before, and it makes me wonder now if I am a pattern-y person, because of how I’ve observed and implemented patterns on my blog. 🙂 I’m glad you wrote your observation about my writing about my MFA as a pattern. I hadn’t meant to mention it so often (though I did get that feeling in a recent post), so it’s good to know I’ve made it so prominent! (I think as a reader that could get old fast if someone continually reminded me of that fact and / or predominantly drew from that experience!). So, not only is it a pattern, but good feedback! So thank you! And thank you also for what your kind words about my writing.
Looks like you’ve identified 3 patterns in my blog! 🙂
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Your blog lead to my reflection on the prevalence of patterns from the perspective of a teacher. I remember being amazed by the way in which very young JK students had an innate sense of patterns, balance and symmetry. It was then that I realized that their world is full of symmetry… buildings, blocks, clothing, our faces… etc.
So too did I notice that the patterns inherent in classroom schedules were observed closely. Some students were quite comfortable with a longer math lesson than usual or no journal writing on a Monday. They went with the “flow”. Others were concerned or “thrown off” by such changes and questioned why things were different. But this was rare and most often it was “exceptional” (literally) students who noted such changes.
No prize for me … but, as always, food for thought. Thanks!!
AE
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That’s interesting that young children have this sense for and love of patterns. I wonder if it’s something we outgrow, or just tend to just disregard when we get older? Are we still all just little kids inside that like patterns and value routine? Your comment has got me thinking about it. Thanks for your sharing your thoughts, AE!
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Well, I’ve published a new post! Thanks to all for commenting on this post and writing about patterns. Amy at HearthRidgeReflections, a copy of Phillip Lopate’s anthology, *The Art of the Personal Essay* will be coming your way soon!
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