I’m delighted to share that an article I was invited to work on with the director of the Shelburne Craft School, Heather Moore, has been published in the IMAG #18 periodical from InSEA publications. It’s called, “Who Cares How it Comes Out? Pinhole Camera as Teacher and Muse”. You can find it here! It was a marvelous process, working on such an important-to-me project. The more I think about creativity, the more I think it is an essential and critical part of being human and that it ought never be treated as an afterthought. We’ve, as a species, been articulating our ideas and inspirations for millennia. To be able to think and write about how the creative process fosters community, empathy, enthusiasm, and engagement was a real pleasure. I hope you like it!
For one of the classes I teach, I gather quotes that capture the symbolism of weaving and how it describes so much of our experience of life. I’d love to start sharing what I find here.
We all belong to the same beautiful tapestry of existence, and our lives are all woven together to create the magical experience of life. None of us are alone, or solitary, or unimportant- we’re all part of something that is vastly bigger than ourselves but, at the same time, comprises each of our individual energies. We are forever interconnected, and these connections are more awe inspiring and more powerful than we can even fathom.
The Shadow of America has burst forth, Hideous in full form, Visible to the world. Not for the first time, But still, this time too Is trying our souls. Many have known this Shadow. Those able to see have recognized it, Studied it, Preached, sung, written of it. Courageous vilified for naming it. Truth-sayers killed for challenging it, taking it to court. Those countless murdered by Shadow’s effects on humans in righteous denial, Their blood is on our hands, Fostering dis-ease until we ease ourselves into taking it on, this Shadow-illness That, when denied becomes more itself, Tyrannical. To know is to descend into darkness, Where ancient Destruction lives, With Her corpse wall hooks, And His poison. No wonder there is turning away. To face Shadow is the stuff of legend. Legend’s heroes have scars, every one, Valiantly earned, Skin debt paid in the quest towards light. The lid is blown off this American dream. Now we must, oh we must! Welcome the cracked open broken heart that comes with Shadow As it swirls and climbs, Snuffing out white-washed lies, Engorged on delicious ignorance, Creating and co-creating with light Something new. A new table where all have a place, Eyes looking into eyes, with recognition, sorrow, love. This time, And again, It is an invitation.
b. mccabe hansen
Notes:
“With Her corpse wall hooks”; references Ereshkigal, Mesopotamian goddess of death and the underworld who hangs sister/goddess Inanna on wall hooks; the myth of Inanna explores many themes, including the process of descending to darkness to face that which we have not seen or accepted within ourselves, claiming our cut-off parts.
References:
Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth: Her Stories and Hymns from Sumer, Diane Wolkstein & Samuel Noah Kramer
Descent to the Goddess: A Way of Initiation for Women, by Sylvia Brinton Perera
“And His poison”; references Phthonos, Greek spirit and embodiment of malicious envy.
“Is trying to our souls”: Reference to Thomas Paine’s American Crisis, December 23, 1776. Excerpt: “THESE are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph.”
A friend of mine mentioned the other day that I hadn’t written here in a bit. She’s known me long enough to recognize a pattern of mine which is that I do a pretty full retreat from online things when there’s something I’m sorting out. I got to talk about the things that I’ve been chewing on, and she listened. She also said she missed seeing what I’m up to when it comes to making things. This was a beautiful nudge. Very well-rounded.
Grief, as you likely already know, takes its toll on people. As someone who’s written a lot about grief, a whole book in fact, you’d think maybe I’d know some tricks on how to navigate the experience with greater ease. But I’m here to tell you, there are no easy ways through the process. In all my writing, talking, supporting, and expressing, never once do I suggest there is a “get-through-grief-the-easy-way” option. It is simply something we must go through, feel, adapt to, and be chiseled by. Ultimately, we are charged with getting to know ourselves and others in our new form, as someone changed by what we’ve experienced.
I’ve noticed about myself that when I’m swimming in the grief waters, I need to take some steps back from those things that put me out there into the world. Certain aspects of grief make me feel like I’m a flipped over turtle, and the last thing I need in those circumstances is to feel more vulnerable during those times.
As we approach the year anniversary of when my dad died, we are also making our way through cold winter here in Vermont. In a few days, it will be February 1, Imbolc, which marks the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. This is when, in the Northern Hemisphere, the light starts to shift and come back. Many are thinking about the seeds they’re going to start indoors in preparation for the spring plantings. The goddess Brigid is honored in her many forms. We are invited to clean our houses, set our intentions, and think about what we want to bring into fruition in the coming growing cycles.
sun snow…
I will be honoring both of these events. I feel ready for the light to come back after relishing resting in the dark.
Creative life has been full all these months. I’ve been teaching at the Shelburne Craft School, a place that has truly become a home away from home. I also have spent time with folks in my studio, supporting their weaving journey. I’m taking a tapestry weaving class with Elizabeth Buckley, all about weaving water. I am learning so much!
my first attempt to weave reflections in water… not easy, my friends. I have a ways to go, but I’m loving the class.
I have a lot of little projects going on as well, including a new daily weaving practice that has absolutely no plan, so we’ll see how it goes.
Oh, and I made some block prints…
I’m creating things for a new class I’ll be offering called Wild Weaving, where we get to blast out our creativity and impulses into the embrace of a waiting warp.
And, I’m developing an online class as part of our Weaving Your Story programming through the craft school. This is a curriculum I’ve been developing for a couple of years and has become a very important part of my life.
All amazing work to get to be doing!
I still need to finish weaving some towels so I can get started on a new installation idea that won’t let go of my imagination. That is a project I’ll be planting seeds for soon, in hopes that it will be born over the summer months. You heard it here first! It’s got ties to this piece that was in a show in South Burlington last year.
Creative energy builds when we learn how to rest in the ways we need.
That’s it for now. Thank you, dear friend, for asking for an update.
This is my first year joining the Vermont Crafts Council Open Studio Weekend. I’ve always wanted to participate but never could get it all together at the right time. I brought my outdoor loom over today and have been polishing things up as I prepare for this event. My studio is in Loop 3 along with fellow artists in Shelburne, Richmond, Charlotte, and Hinesburg! I wish I could go to all of their studios, too!
To see what this event is all about and get your maps and figure out your routes, go the Vermont Crafts Council website here. More to come about the event in the coming weeks.
I dropped off the pieces I made for the Interwoven fiber art exhibit yesterday. Walking away from things I made was an interesting feeling I’ve not had much experience with. It was both exciting and nerve wracking! I kept turning back, looking at them laying where I left them, as though I needed to say goodbye a couple more times. Or maybe just a little more fiddling, straightening, adjusting… I think it’s because each of the pieces that will be in the show was a meditation on some issue I think about or am currently wrestling with. So really, what I was leaving in someone else’s care was the physical evidence of an emotional process.
I am delighted to be in the show with three other incredible artists. What a boon!
Here is the invitation to the Opening! If you’re in the area and have an interest in fiber art, come on down!
Has it really been since March since I’ve written? I’ve been meaning to, but honestly, it’s really hard to extrovert (which in my mind includes putting parts of myself out into the world) when grieving. I’ve needed a lot of quiet, a lot of time alone, and not at all any “shoulds” where possible; just simply to have time to be in my own headspace, at least more than I typically am able. That all being said, I’ve missed writing here. I’ve come to look at this website/blog as the place that holds evidence of my thinking and ideas.
I’m grateful to you for tuning in.
Some updates: I was asked to participate in a group art show entitled Interwoven at the South Burlington Public Art Gallery , and I wholeheartedly said yes. I’d been working on some projects and it was just the impetus I needed to really focus and bring them into being. Most everything I make has to do with something I’m working out in my psyche and the pieces I made for this are no exception. Three are hand knit and three are handwoven. I’ll love to share them with you. The show’s opening is on September 11. I’ll post more about that soon.
Evidence of Significant Repair
Wearing Away
Hema ThrínoRhythms
Winter of Our Discontent
Soil
My wooly, woven pieces are actually curtains but could also be wall hangings. I love playing with the idea of warm and bold wool being woven in an airy, light-filled way. I was in my studio yesterday and the window was open, allowing Winter of Our Discontent to flow and move and I smiled, seeing it dance just the way I’d hoped. I’ll write separately about each piece to introduce them simply and properly in the next week or two.
Also happening lately is the spinning of wool while listening to Clarissa Pinkola Estés’The Power of the Crone. I highly recommend listening to her wonderful stories. Pairing that with spinning is like eating dark chocolate while sipping a hot coffee. Perfection.
I got to dress up for a dear friend’s beautiful event thrown to raise money to develop a space that supports deep creativity and the arts…
And I got glasses- suddenly everything looks crisp and clear again… dang, that was a slow motion slippery slope…
I played with paint and yarn…
And had a lot of my work hung at the Pierson Library in Shelburne…
And did all kinds of fibery things with the Shelburne Craft School, my home away from home…
So, now that we’re all caught up (is that ever really possible?), I’ll love to know what you’ve been working on, thinking about, gearing up to do.
I heard a wonderful program on NPR this morning and just had to share it with you. I found myself nodding and smiling and feeling this wonderful sense of “Yes, Exactly”! as I listened. The segment is called: Feeling alone? 5 tips to create connection and combat loneliness and was on Morning Edition. It features Dr. Jeremy Nobel, who founded the Foundation for Art and Healing decades ago and wrote the book entitled Project UnLonely. I’d never heard of it and am so grateful to know about it now. Here’s the link to the episode. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
There is something alchemical about handweaving. It connects us with ourselves, with others, and with our ancestors, recent and distant. Weaving is part of our ancestral DNA and when we allow our fingers to interlace thread with thread, we create connection and foundation. Weaving does not have to be expensive, and weaving should be accessible to all people. If we can apply resistance to threads and create a taut warp, we can weave.
I love the long arc of weaving and the incredible potential it affords. One can sit with a simple frame loom and weave wild art pieces as well as work on a multi-harness floor loom and create wondrous and complex fabric. There are so many types of weaving and looms. Multi-shaft, tapestry, backstrap, pin, circular, inkle, Rinny Tin-Tin. Over the last decade, I’ve been teaching fiber art and craft in schools and more recently at the Shelburne Craft School, and there are some thought jewels that I’ve gathered along the way that fuel me, inspire me and make me want to keep learning and expanding. I’ve shared some of them here as a way of inviting anyone who has an inkling, to try out weaving, or any art or craft you’ve longed to try but keep putting off.
People Meet Themselves When They Weave
On many occasions, I’ve had the good pleasure of hearing people say things like, “I’m usually __________ (fill in the blank), but I’m playing with being __________ (fill in the blank) as I weave this” … or “I’ve never played with so much color before and I LOVE it!” …, or “I never realized how much tension I hold in my hands” …, or “the process of weaving while I reflect on my loved one is bringing up thoughts and feelings I’ve not held space for in so long, if ever.”
When we let ourselves just be with our hands, our eyes, and our breath as we make, our spirit has a chance to catch up and settle into the space between our lungs and in all the chambers of our heart. We can hear our own breathing again. We can let our eyes linger where they want to, and then notice where that is. We can meet our inner judge and talk it down from fear. We can usher ourselves into new territory and have woven fabric to show for the journey.
People Benefit from Having Access to Colors and Textures and the Opportunity to Experiment
This may sound so obvious it’s laughable, but hear me out. Have you ever had the experience of being invited to make something, and are given a certain set of materials that everyone else has, and a series of instructions that everyone else has, and you make something at the end that looks like a weird, kind of close but disturbingly not-close version of the thing you were supposed to make? Or is that just my life? In my experience, nothing botches up creativity more than when we are in a circumstance that doesn’t let us feel and see our way through materials we want to touch and witness. I’ve been blessed with a bunch of students who “go rogue” on the regular. It’s hilarious, and it’s shown me that people have their own ideas and their own version of learning that needs to be honored and allowed for as much as possible. Yes, sometimes technical truths need to be thrown in the mix to ensure that people can weave the thing they want to weave, but I’ve learned that creative drive is strong and shouldn’t be stamped out by rigidity.
People of All Ages Need to Play
I think we all know this intuitively, but what I’ve found is that people of all ages need access to opportunities where they can experiment, follow their noses, see what happens, try this and that, on low-stake projects. As we age, many of us become concerned with how much things cost, how much “time is worth”, how useful something is, and whether there is value to whatever it is we are doing. It puts so much pressure on the creative part of ourselves that just needs a freakin’ minute to look at things, try things out, observe what happens when certain materials interact with others, and take notice of how we feel about what we are seeing and experiencing. We need the chance to just be and drop in to our flow. When teaching elementary aged people as well as folks in their senior years, I’ve heard many exclaim, “Oh wow, I get to use this?” and, “I can’t believe I can weave with all of this! It’s so much fun!”
That makes my day.
My friend and weaving teacher, Lausanne Allen, playing the fiddle while guests learned to braid using the Kumihimo method during an event at the Shelburne Craft School.
Weaving Can Be Very Simple and Very Complex
I’m hitting home runs here with obvious statements, but it’s worth saying that weaving is, at its most basic, the process of moving one material over and under and over and under another material. That’s it. Simple as that. From that foundation, we can weave the most complex and wondrous images and textiles imaginable. But it all starts with interlacing whatever it is we are weaving with. Isn’t that marvelous? Weaving is for everyone. It can be taught to people as young as nursery school age, and there is no age limit. In fact, weaving can help those dealing with the effects of stroke, dementia, and Alzheimer’s disease, as it has been shown to strengthen and encourage neuroplasticity in the brain.
When We Get to Do Things We Love, We Are Living the Universal Dream
Disclaimer: This is my view based on a whole lot of things. Feel free to take it or leave it.
If we are doing what we love at least sometimes, we can experience ourselves and share with the world our inherent gifts. There are no losers in this set-up. (Of course, I’m assuming that doing what we love doesn’t include hurting other people or living in a way that disregards others’ autonomy and integrity.) When we share what we love with others who are interested, we are giving from the place of our truest selves, because what we love is connected to who we are; the spark connected to our creativity is born from energy itself, and it interlaces with others’ creativity, like a cosmic dance. It’s amazing!
Whether it’s weaving, dancing, sculpting or singing, writing, building or baking (the list goes on and on), if we love what we are doing and sharing it with others in some way, we are putting some good energy into the world. And my friends, the world needs that big time.
Doing what we love = good medicine.
I hope whatever you are doing today includes you sharing the spark you have with the world in whatever way feels great to you. Until next time.
Healing Handcrafting 