Why Is Making By Hand Important to You?

This seems to be the year of re-discovering my knitidentity. I've been answering these questions of for whom, what, where, when, and how do I knit almost instinctively this year. I am usually the kind of person who does things first and figures out why afterward, so it makes sense to me that I would dig into this now, 10 years after I started falling in love with this craft.

When I saw that Melanie Fallick was writing a book on making things by hand and wanted quotes for the book (see her blog post here) it made me stop and think.

Why is making things by hand so important to me? It's never been something I asked myself. Growing up I was attracted to art. I colored, I drew, I made latch hook rug things. My father's mother used to collect shells or coral (before we really knew that it was a bad thing to take coral from its natural environment) and she'd bring these back to us when we were little. I don't quite know how or why it started, but we began to color the shells with markers. My father's sister used to create pottery (we had her wheel for quite a while. I always kind of was hoping to get to use it but didn't get a chance to before my parents did something with it), and my grandmother used to love to draw.

But I suspect my mother's side is more where the compelling drive to work with my hands comes from. My mom dabbles in many fiber crafts, but hasn't really gotten obsessed with any the way I have. My grandfather worked in textile mills in Massachussets (In Lowell? Near Lowell?) before going to the Korean War and then school on the GI bill. My grandmother, though, has always seemed to me to be an expert in all fiber arts. She knits, embroiders, sews, weaves, and crewells as well (those kits are HARD to find these days!). So I've not only had an example of handmade around my whole life, but I've always had some sort of creative influence flowing through me as well.

I make things with my hands because I need to. Making with my hands is, I would say, such a part of me that it almost defines who I am.

I am a doer.
I am a creator.
I am a maker.

I'm not honestly sure what I would do with my hands if they weren't working on a project. As it is, when I'm at work or driving anywhere I pick at my fingers, the nail (unless they're painted), the cuticle, the skin around them. I destroy my fingers when they aren't otherwise busy. They sometimes bleed and get painful.



TL:DR: I make things with my hands to prevent auto-canibalization.

Book Review: My Grandmother's Knitting

I just finished reading this book by Larissa Brown. As someone who re-started family tree research recently, the combination of ancestry and knitting is quite interesting to me. The book ism ore than a pattern book, although there are many patterns in it. 17 contemporary designers are profiled with emphasis on family members that inspired them to be creative and knit.

Some stories stick out to me more than others. I loved the idea of Ysolda Teague going to pre-school thinking that all sweaters were knit by grandfathers instead of grandmothers. Jared Flood's father's art was always rooted in a utilitarian mindset - something Jared came back to after exploring "art for arts sake." The most inspiring story, to me, was actually the Family Trunk Project that Emily Johnson has undertaken. Not only did she research her family tree but she decided to design a garment for each member in her tree.


There are also some patterns in this bok that have gotten stuck in my head that I'd like to knit. The Concetta Cardigan by Cirilla Rose feels both vintage and classic at the same time. I think we all know I'm a sucker for sequins and the sequins in this pattern are just the right amount of sparkle to glam it up without getting kitschy.

Cosette Cornelius-Bates designed an Ice Skating Cape that can double as a skirt. I love the concentric circles of purls and how the simplicity of the cape/skirt is dressed up with buttons and a ribbon at the top.

Emily Johnson's 'Olina Socks do remind me of my trip to Hawaii, and I will probably end up knitting them sometime. The Wan Jai socks by Cookie A. are also spectacular with the meandering line of stockinette that represents her family's journey.

But the one pattern that I'm completely enamored with and inexplicably can't get out of my head is Wendy Bernard's Helen's Slippers and Wendy's Slippers. They just look so cosy and warm. I also feel like they look familiar, as though someone in my own family members might have worn slippers like these, maybe even I did! It's entirely possible that I might knit a LOT of these as Christmas gifts.

As you can tell, I was quite inspired by this book. It's been reminding me of the role my own grandmother has played as my crafting muse. Be on the lookout for an essay on that sometime soon!

*psst! Those pattern links are Ravelry links!