Hey reader,
It’s been a while so before I start, here’s a few upcoming events I wanted to share:
26.10.2024 - Dublin Fibre Festival ~ 10am to 5pm ~ You will find me here for the debut market celebrating Irish fibre crafts.
14.10.2024 - Making Space: Seasonal Decoration Workshop ~ 6:30pm to 8:30pm ~ Join me in my Woodstock Road studio and learn how to handcraft a beautiful pair of seasonal decorations to take home with you using knotting, coiling, stitching and macramé techniques.
23.11.2024 - Macramé: The Art of Knots Wall Hanging Workshop ~10am to 4pm ~ Crescent Arts Centre Belfast
03.12.2024 - Making Space: Seasonal Decoration Workshop ~ 6:30pm to 8:30pm ~ Join me in my Woodstock Road studio and learn how to handcraft a beautiful pair of seasonal decorations to take home with you using knotting, coiling, stitching and macramé techniques.
Upcoming Christmas market dates are coming soon…
Making a living as a maker this time of year comes with a frenzied sense of urgency. An urgency akin to the chasing of light in ever darkening days or catching the last glimpse of crimson leaves before they fade and fall from the tree. It’s my harvest season, the time to make hay while the sun shines, the time when my creative practice becomes a full blown production line. My hands work tirelessly and methodically late into the night, seemingly disconnected from my conscious brain, moving in ways learned from years of repetition.
My weeks follow a strict routine, a schedule dictated by work, school runs, homework and what to make for dinner. The precious time to make gets slotted into the hours and minutes in-between; a countdown of how long each object takes to make and how much time I have at my disposal. What I make cannot be replicated at speed like a print or a photograph, each knot and loop a slow preamble to the main event, my hands performing the same dance over and over again. My hands are my hero’s.
When my eyes start to blur in the tired darkness and a seeping anxiety that I’ll never be able to make enough sets in, I remind myself that hand making takes time and I go to bed. I am not a machine and wishing it to be any other way is just giving in to a man made cycle of capitalism. The value in what I make is not based on quantity but that everything I make is imbued with my passion, my experience and my determination to keep the dream alive.
Reading back through my inaugural Substack post I am reminded of the daunting bout of creative burnout I experienced after last years frenzy. I started this year feeling totally deflated and have been navigating a sort of creative revival every since. I knew in my bones that this would be, had to be, a transitional year for the survival of my creative practice. It’s been 8 years this October since I took a chance and decided to make a living from the business of craft. There’s been plenty of learning along the way and the journey has not been a linear one. Each year has followed the same cycles of busy and slow and each year I get marginally better equipped to adapt and form some sort of game plan to take on the next round.
It all works out if I’m hungry for the fight but suddenly at the beginning of this year, I’d lost my appetite. A emergency factory reset was required. I took a step back from the business of making, in fact I almost stopped making completely. Instead I picked up whatever work came my way, dived head first into some collaborative and community projects, did some serious soul searching, found joy in being creative outside of my working practice and discovered sweet inspiration in unexpected places. It was a just what I needed and for the first time in years I felt like I could see beyond the next Christmas.
So while I find myself in the epicentre of this years preoccupation with the big C, I have a lighter view on the whole thing because I finally have a plan. After many unsuccessful (and soul destroying) attempts applying for funding that would support the development of my practice, I finally got a bite. Not only did I get a bite but I managed to reel it in through a round of nerve wracking interviews and the emergence of a final and glorious YES! (If I had a picture of me wearing hip waders and proudly presenting a glistening big fish, I would insert it here) It’s a big deal in my world and I’m really proud of myself.
With the support of Heritage Crafts Association next year I will be embarking on a bespoke programme of 1 to 1 training and short courses with 3 master craftswomen in the craft skills of Passementerie, Kumihimo Braiding and Ply-Split Braiding. If you don’t know what any of that means, you’re not alone…
Passementerie is a specialised weaving technique and an endangered craft that I’ve talked about in my last post Thinking With Your Hands. A talented artist and QEST scholar, Elizabeth Ashdown combines traditional and endangered craft skills with a contemporary aesthetic in order to create innovative passementerie. Elizabeth has kindly agreed to share her space and show me the ropes. You can find out more about Elizabeth’s colourful work here.
Julie Hedges will be guiding me through the unique skills of Ply-Split Braiding, a skill that is historically practised in North West India to make elaborate camel girths and other animal regalia of hand-spun goat hair, wool or sometimes cotton. Julie is one of a handful of people internationally that have undergone extensive research and continue to practice and reintroduce this ancient craft in a new way.
Jacqui Carey is a textile specialist, braid-maker and leader in her field. Her work acknowledges tradition whilst exploring the creative. Over the course of 4 days in the stunning West Dean College of Arts, Design, Craft and Conservation I will learn the skills of Kumihimo - a traditional Japanese art form for making braids and cords. Kumihimo literally translates to “gathered threads” and is traditional made on a braiding loom called a Marudai or a Takadai.
It’s an incredible opportunity I have been given, to share in the knowledge and experience of these highly skilled craftswomen. What I learn will be a huge stepping stone for my practice and has added fuel to my creative revival. I still can’t believe it’s happening to me (somebody pinch me). Perhaps it’s just coincidence but Thursday’s super Hunter Moon in Aries has left me feeling energised and ready to put what I’ve learned into action so over the course of next year I will be using this space, more regularly, to share my journey and document my progress. I hope you’ll continue to tune in.
Thanks for taking the time to read this post. If you liked what you read, then drop a heart and subscribe for free. You can also support my work and find out what I’m up to by following me on Instagram. I’d love to hear your thoughts so please do leave me a comment. I do hope you’ll stick around….
I have missed your words on Substack this year Alison, but I could sense you were having a reset and I am thrilled to bits for this next very exciting step in your creative journey. Best wishes to you for this new season of braiding... the threads have much in store for you I believe! x
I hear you on the ‘factory reset’ … that’s a very exciting new path for you, well done! …we must catch up for the full download!