12 Responses

  1. magpie says:

    yes, wonder. my mother was a crafty soul too, and kept exploring. your fine husband does good work BTW.

  2. ilyanna says:

    At the very bottom of my linen trunk is the quilt my mother made for me from scraps of dresses, which she also made for me. It’s tattered and well-loved; it would be on my bed now if it wasn’t on the verge of disintegration.

    I’m a mediocre maker. I sew, some. I knit, some. I’ve made hats for the members of my family and scarves and baby blankets for friends. My greatest triumph, however, is the quilt on Miss Awesome’s bed. It’s got mistakes that would have a “real” quilter tearing out her (or his) hair. But I love imagining it travelling to college with her. I hope someday she can find comfort in my wandering stitches, or wrap it around herself for an interim hug. I believe thing making is a kind of love.

    And for the record? baking/cooking is, indeed, makery of the finest and most ethereal sort.

  3. kmkat says:

    I have a crocheted afghan made by a friend of my husband’s parents. The woman gave it to me because she had no children and she thought I would appreciate it. And I do (although it will forever be stored in a moth-proof place because I detest the pink and red colors she used).

    Small repetitive movements increase the theta waves in the brain, iirc. The Yarn Harlot (google her) often speaks of the cognitive and emotional and psychological benefits of knitting.

  4. kmkat says:

    Forgot to add, tell Byron I LOVE his blackwork. He should start a separate category for it on his blog so I can look at it. That’s what he cares about, right? That The Kat is not inconvenienced?

  5. Deborah says:

    I’m all in agreement with your anecdotal analyses, having (re)started my winter knitting project of last year and (re)discovered how ridiculously satisfying it is to make thousands of knots over and over and over. The bonus being when you can actually wear all those knots! I love having something to do other than WWF when I’ve got some down time (red lights, waiting for a pickleball court to open up, waiting for airplanes – no that’s a lie because I’ve never dared to take my needles through airport security) and find it calming in its repetition and orderliness. I am pretty much in awe of Byron’s skills, especially as he is the only person in the world that I know of who does what he does. Being able to create and fix are the best things ever, and that includes creating music. Keep on playing!!

  6. actonbell says:

    There certainly is something meditative about these kind of activities–they force one to concentrate and be mindful of the present. And, afterwards, the end products are mighy satisfying! Your husband is doing beautiful, intriguing work in black and white. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  7. Lil says:

    Last year was a really bad one for me, and along the way, I pretty much gave up everything I love best. Things started looking up when I began flinging paint around again in my visual journal and, more recently, working on refinishing beat up furniture.

  8. I encourage patients to find something creative to do – I really believe that (much like exercise) it is a huge boon for your mental health.

  9. PIsham says:

    Love this post! My daughter goes to a Waldorf school where knitting, crocheting, embroidery, woodwork, etc. are part of the curriculum and I’m part of a handwork circle with other parents Wednesday mornings. So appreciative of these opportunities to keep in touch with art and craft.

  10. I do believe in all this–one more reason I really want to take up knitting. I used to do quite a bit of cross-stitching and hope to get back to that one day as well. The internet sure does suck up a lot of time–though I also do good things with it. One day I will find the balance.

  11. Jess says:

    I love Byron, he’s the coolest. And I love your mom’s quilt.Crafting is actually harder for me when I’m depressed (motivation, i guess?) But it does help immensely.

  12. lime says:

    YOu know, I do believe there is value in handiwork for so many reasons and I can even get behind the anecdotal observations you make. Then I read of Byron and think of my grandfather who was an embroiderer himself. I have pillow cases and table clothes and tea towels he and my grandmother labored over together. I treasure them. And then I remember his soul-crushing depression in his final years. I think that has more to do with coming from a generation and sub-culture that did not ask for help because it was a sign of moral failure. the handiwork though…maybe it stitched him together gently for longer than he might have held it all without it.

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