We had such a wonderful day at the Kenmore Farmer's Market on July 9th. As little Blubird grows and grows, I'm constantly amazed at how many bright, enthusiastic people this venture allows me to meet and work with. I read somewhere once that when you strike a path and set your feet forward with intent, the people you need will find you. I had a lovely taste of this serendipity on Sunday, and I'm hungry for more.
For those of you who took a few minutes to contribute to our interactive Collaborweave project, Thank you! It looks so nice in my studio I almost don't want to touch it.
When I birthed this fiber child, my original vision was a small burst of interactive try it yourself time, whereupon I took it home and finished it solo. But I wasn't prepared for the reactions that people had to working on this. The genuine delight, awe, shy (and sometime fierce) pride, and my personal favorite, unabashed dorky goofy eagerness (which spoke MY language, trust you me), showed me that while I was right to think that this would be fun, I didn't get what it could mean to others - not by a long shot. Being a part the generation raised in the cradle of mass manufactured consumerism, I spent a large chunk of my adult life fumbling around in the dark, feeling "less than" as I watched all those paragons of creative work, those untouchable ones, creating magnificent works with their hands and their minds, giving the world pieces of themselves, piece by brave piece. I envied them for their fierceness and their bravery, and most of all, for knowing themselves well enough to not only hear their voice but to be able to use that voice to express in real form, the nameless and the formless that lived inside of them for everyone to see. They were so REAL. It took me years to work up the nerve to wade those waters, for I told myself that I wasn't creative. I couldn't possibly be. Because I couldn't paint. I couldn't draw. I couldn't. I couldn't. I couldn't.
But let me tell you something. That was bullshit. Ridiculousness. I am a creative being. So are you. And your neighbor. And that defeated looking person standing next to you in line at the market. We all have a spark that lives inside of us. A current, if you will, that weaves through us and connects us to something formless and larger than ourselves. Some of us are lucky enough to to be able to grasp the edges of it while we are young and bright and fierce, and ride it to the sky. Some of us need more time. And some of us need more than time. We need to live and grow into ourselves. But we all have it. Every single one of us. And after seeking and searching, and finally coming into my own slowly (but not late, after all, I'm pleased to discover), I really believe that the door to this knowing lies in our hands. Which is why, I think, we are experiencing of late such a resurgence of interest in the fiber arts. and the jewelry arts. And woodworking and pottery. Why grassroots art workshops and courses are now good business, and a valid alternative to Friday nights at the movies. Why now it costs $600 to buy a used spinning wheel, when you used to be able to pick them up for $150, and it's harder and harder to find junky old jewelry at garage sales. Why Mason canning jars aren't really thrift store articles anymore. People are finding that primordial pull to create, to weave their own magic. With their hands and their heartlines.
So, my fellow children of capitalism, fumbling around in the dark looking for something, anything to do with your hands, I'm opening up the invite to anyone - anyone at all is welcome to get in here and flex their creative muscles. If this can help someone find that spark and satisfy that itch in the palm of their hands that they can't name, I'll count this a success.
There are no rules. People have been weaving for thousands of years. In grass huts and caves, on seashores and under trees. With grass and branches and sinew and bone and itty bitty strips of fiber collected and twisted and wound around itself. You don't need to know a thing. I'll help you as much (or as little) as you want.
I curated the elements for this piece with a mind towards combining the natural world that we live in (but oftentimes not truly part of it) and the world we construct around ourselves. You'll find wild elements collected from the woods in my back yard, to dried drugstore flowers, to castaway antique hardware, to raw locks of sheeps wool. All glued together using my handspun yarn. Which I made with....ta da! my hands.
See what I did there?
I'm already in love with the soul this piece has. Which element grabs you?
If you know someone who might take away some joy from being a part of this, please share this blog post through our Facebook posts, or direct them to get in touch and arrange a session, through our website or social media channels. Find us on Instagram - we're there too. We'll be back on the green for the Market on August 13th. I'll have it with me then and we can play some more!
This will be ongoing, so I'll post photo updates of the piece as it evolves. Please show our social medias some Buffalove - and subscribe to the blog here - you’ll stay updated and also help our little studio grow. I hope you try this. Because all philosophical heaviness aside, seriously, it's just plain fun. And fun has a right to exist for its own sake, don't you think?
Best to you and yours.