Making is a gift for me as a mother as it helps me rest and refill my cup in this particularly hectic season of life. I’m increasingly convinced that the work of my hands is first and foremost an overflowing of the heart, none the more so when it comes to the craft of making play things for my children. It is one of the many ways I connect with my eldest and am learning to bond with my youngest. At a particularly vulnerable moment in my life as a woman and mother, these slow stitches has felt akin to meditation or prayer.
I work at an intentionally slow pace, striving to create pieces imbued with longevity. My hope is that they will be around for a long time. It is labour intensive, but therapeutic work. It is also immensely satisfying to be able to combine so many of my fibre interests together into one piece. Last year, I created a small collection of bears that incorporated elements of hand-spinning, felting and lacemaking. I also started naturally dyeing my own mohair with traditional dye sources like madder root, weld and indigo. The only downside is trying to find the room in my studio to store all the paraphernalia that inevitably accompanies each craft.
Within its pages, I hope to find a place to catch my breath & gather my thoughts. To talk about my making and to delight in slow & sustainable creativity, with wool that’s been grown, gathered, and crafted in these Breton green hills: hand-spun on spindle & wheel, dyed with plants, knitted on my needles, stuffed into teddy bears. It is also a place to document the gentle path towards sustainable self employment.