I love this collection of thoughtful essays from diverse authors about the role of fibre arts in their lives.
I love this collection of thoughtful essays from diverse authors about the role of fibre arts in their lives.
For the first hour or so in the recovery room, her eyes closed, Mom knitted without yarn or needles. I watched her fingers repeat the familiar dance, pulling at threads that didn‘t exist, creating small loops of air. […] I want to believe that the pair of invisible socks she knitted in recovery is among her finest work. I imagine them on permanent loan to the museum of objects made in the minds of unconscious craftspeople.
-Kevin Shaw
When I became chronically ill, I began embroidering scientific diagrams. Soon the practice of stitching became something deeper, something that soothed and filled me. […] The act of embroidery calmed my nervous system and offered exquisite attention to my symptoms, making them less distressing and more something to explore.
-Lia Pas, in the essay What Is the Body but a Matrix of Threads?
Nonpractitioners may view these “hobbies” as illogical—the time they take, the cost and storage of materials, the learning curve, the patience required—but as you‘ll see in the essays in this collection, these minor annoyances rarely register with those who love fibre arts. For us, there are profound, beautiful and sometimes heartbreaking answers to the question “Why?”
-Nancy Lee
#LitsyCrafters
Rain looks like running stitches when we watch it falling close to us—a fastening of cloud and ground with water thread.
-Sadiqa De Meijer, in the essay Spirit Materials
What a juxtaposition and false dichotomy between my art and my counselling practices. In my art, I am a storyteller. In my work, I am a story listener. Through both, I am changed.
-Macayla Yan, in the essay Migration Threads