Maker DNA
A few months ago I sat in the main hall at Guild House (the home of the Embroiderers’ Guild of Western Australia) manning a raffle table. The occasion was our Christmas Market, a major fundraiser for some important renovations and extensions to our building. On the opposite side of the hall, a huge, unworked canvas picture hung. It was glorious - a symphony of sea shells and turtles. The donated goods stall had priced it at $30. Most of the items on their stall run at under $10 so this was a hefty price tag by their standards.
One of the organisers of the market was helping to man the stall next to me. As we were chatting I mentioned that the shells were calling my name but I was resolutely resisting temptation. “I do not need anything else in my stash!”, I laughed. After doing the rounds a little later she said, “You know, that canvas comes with all the wool to work it.” What??? Wow - that made it even more of a bargain than it was already. The voice in my head was working very hard. No Ann-Marie, you don’t need it. Walk away! When on earth will you find the time stitch it??
The siren call of canvas, wool, shells and turtles
At the end of the day I made a big mistake. I couldn’t resist wandering over to the other side of the hall, just to take a closer look. I don’t usually work painted canvases preferring my counted, geometric designs. But this design was amazing and it was perfectly registered on the canvas (some printed canvases are ever so slightly squiffy and it drives me crazy trying to decide whether a given intersection is one or another colour). If this design wasn’t hand painted, then it was the very best printing job I had ever seen. I said to the stall holder that I didn’t think she realised what an extraordinary treasure she had…. and then I promptly succumbed. I gave her $50 for it (the original price tag of $30 just seemed too ridiculously low). The voice inside my head was trying to give me grief for my total lack of willpower, without success. I was fizzing with excitement. For whatever reason, this piece had spoken to me and I just couldn’t wait to get started.
That night I sat on my bed with the canvas spread out in front of me (it is almost the width of our king size bed). There was absolutely no information to identify its provenance. I didn’t know the country of origin, the designer, or who had provided the original materials for the kit. It was a complete mystery. Never mind - I didn't regret my purchase for an instant and spent a couple of hours happily sorting through the wools. A few of the colours were not quite to my taste and I had a bit of a job tracking down where I could buy more of the Paternayan 3-ply wool, but a week or so later I put in an order for a handful of extra hanks (at a cost that far exceeded my original outlay!). They would take over a month to arrive, but in the meantime I had plenty of wool to get started.
As a busy embroidery designer, I don’t have a lot of spare time to work projects purely for pleasure, but I simply can’t resist this one. I allow myself a couple of hours a week to pull it out and work a few stitches. It's slow work but the long-legged cross stitch makes the worked area strong and heavy when compared with the flimsy, open canvas. It’s an enchanting transformation which propels me forward.
Slow but steady progress
This week I sat working on it with some embroidery friends. It’s a big piece to carry around but it doesn’t need a frame, so I simply sit with it draped over my lap whilst I stitch. As I let the chatter and hum of the group wash around me, an idea popped into my head. My fingers started to tingle as I paused to grab my phone and do a quick search. And sure enough, my spark of inspiration had been correct (honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner!). My beloved shells and turtles were designed by none other than Kaffe Fassett! I was so excited that I couldn’t sit still. I stood up and did a little jiggle of delight. I love Kaffe’s work - his wonderful use of pattern and colour. A little further digging revealed a video of Kaffe talking about the Shell & Turtle Carpet, how it came about, and how he was now selling his original stitched version (https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/81416705754537128/). I knew already that this piece was a treasure, but now it feels even more special. It will take me years to finish it but that doesn't bother me. The slow and patient journey will be worth every single stitch.
So what makes us fall in love with a particular piece or style of hand work? I don't have the answer to that question. The most apt term I can conjure is “Maker DNA" - the idea that we have an almost instinctive connection to a type of material or a style of making. For me it is the rhythmically calming process of needle up and needle down - the delicious feel of fibre being drawn through fabric. I love watching a design gradually develop as different coloured threads are laid down to create pattern and texture. I have felt that way about stitching for as long as I can remember and my recent love affair with Kaffe’s shells and turtles is just one example of many times when I have been totally enchanted by my embroidery.
My husband loves to work on cars. He has been doing it since he was a teenager. There was a period in our life when he didn’t have a car to work on. He was worried about the impact on our finances whereas as I was worried about just how miserable he was becoming. I said to him one day, “Please just go and buy a car. We’ll manage.” Within a week a secondhand Peugeot was in our driveway, destined to be taken through all sorts of fabrications and transformations so that he could drive it in rally cross events. And for the first time in ages his face was shining with delight. It is quite common these days for him to spend almost the entire weekend working on his car, but it keeps him happy and sane and I wouldn’t swap that for anything.
Melanie Falick published a wonderful book, “Making a Life”, in 2019. The book is subtitled “Working by Hand and Discovering the Life You Are Meant to Live”. It is filled with beautifully illustrated stories of makers and how they came to connect to their chosen hand work. I could wax lyrical with quotes from every single story (luckily for you, I won’t go completely overboard!). Jessica Green is a weaver who describes her first encounter with a loom as “a homecoming”. There is an instinctive connection for her in raising threads and throwing shuttles. Frances Palmer says that her work as a potter was “love at first touch”. Windy Chien adores carving wooden spoons and macramé. Of the latter she says, “Within five minutes, I remembered how much I loved it as a kid”, and then, “Very quickly, all the expressive possibilities of the cord became apparent to me.”
I think all of us have a Maker DNA - materials and processes that we are instinctively drawn to, that feel like home when we find them. Nearly every maker I know or whose story I read describes what it feels like to be totally connected to their materials and engrossed in their work. Many have stories that speak of a restlessness or discontent that disappears when they find the hand work that feels “right”.
The Hands Manifesto is about many things, but one of them is an ardent desire to raise the profile of hand work so that more people are encouraged to try making something with their hands. It’s a big dream and I have no idea how to get there, but sharing stories and experiences is an important place to start. I would love to hear yours.
Have you found your Maker DNA and what does that feel like? If not, does this idea resonate with you and would you like to find the place where your hands and materials fit together naturally? How could you go about it or what is holding you back? Let me know your thoughts and ideas in the comments.
This Week’s Reference
Making a Life: Working by Hand and Discovering the Life You Are Meant to Live by Melanie Falick (2019). Published by Artisan (Workman Publidhing Co.) - ISBN 9781579657444
How to comment
I love receiving your comments and hearing your ideas! Making a comment is easy. Just type it into the box below. If you test it with “Preview” first, the name field will show “Not Logged In” (which is a system thing I can’t change). Never fear though! When you click on “Post Comment”, a dialogue box will come up asking for your Name, Email, and Website URL. The only field that must be completed is “Name”. It can be anything you choose - full name, first name, initials, nickname. So go ahead. Let me know what you think :)
