And as I recently re-discovered it, I realized that it was finding craft that finally made to uncover the facts that a) it’s okay to be alone and b) it’s okay to like being alone sometimes. Craft taught me that I don’t have to fear either the silence or the cacophony in my head when I’m working on stitch after stitch after stitch. I don’t have to even worry about the future, if I just keep stitching. Breathing. Living. Moving forward.

May you feel okay to be alone instead of fearing it, and enjoy dancing alone whether it’s at home by yourself with the curtains drawn or in a club or to a lovely song in the grocery store. Or stitching or walking or laughing or cooking or going to see a movie or all the other 10 million things you can do alone.

Performed by Tanya Davis, who you can learn more about here.
Directed by Andrea Dorfman, who you can learn more about here.

“In 1937 and ’38, the federal government commissioned two series of photographs of Gee’s Bend. The images have since become some of the most famous images of Depression-era American life.

In earlier years, one of the primary influences on the Gee’s Bend quilt aesthetic was the newspaper- and magazine-collages used for insulation on the inside walls of homes in the rural American South.”

While I knew the second bit, I wasn’t aware of the first and immediately headed to the Library of Congress website to track them down. You can see the gallery here which is nothing short of amazing. Out of the whole gallery, the photo below is one of my favorites. As you can see, it clearly shows that newspaper and magazines were used to keep out the cold winter (and yes, it does it cold in Alabama in the winter!).

Over the past few days I’ve been thinking a lot about this photo. And how craft’s utilitarian history sets it apart from art as it surrounds us literally in sweaters and quilts and afghans, and how craft has literally embedded its kindness and quiet strength into our skin and made itself home. How the quilters of Gee’s Bend can take creative inspiration from newspaper covering their walls to keep out the cold, the same newspaper that we recycle everyday or that people leave on a bench to eventually float all over town like urban smog-colored tumbleweeds.

How craft has the ability to stimulate our creativity and our passions and still keeps us warm and cozy. It can expand in all directions, and bring us together, whether its out of necessity by a family sewing a quilt to keep them surviving through the winter, or through a knitting circle with friends both old and new. It keeps us humble and away from the traps of art world, while quietly urging us to move forward and seek new inspirations and directions. And it’s that quiet cozy push to move forward that makes me continue to fall in love with craft again and again. I know it must look a hell of a lot like art to some, but the roots of craft will never allow us to stray so far as to lose our way as sometimes happens in the big bad art world.

And, I, for one, am forever grateful and truly humbled for that, by craft’s long tradition that keeps me safe and cozy and secure with what I’m making, never failing to block out harsh comment or criticism like the simplest of insulation, newspaper keeping out the cold on a harsh Alabama night.

Plus, how cool are the uniforms in the second photo?

[Note: how much his creation differs from that of German POW Jim Simpson. Not making a political statement, just interesting. Also: I'm not technically sure what the heck the guy above is doing, as it looks more like he's making friendship bracelets than knitting?]

1st and 3rd photographs: Bain Collection, 2nd: Harris & Ewing Collection

Reflecting on the death of his friend, Gilgamesh decides to search for the key to eternal life, an ultimately futile quest. “Gilgamesh, what you seek you will never find. For when the Gods created Man they let death be his lot, eternal life they withheld. Let your every day be full of joy, love the child that holds your hand, let your wife delight in your embrace, for these alone are the concerns of humanity.”

It’s funny how sometimes there are no words, sometimes there are too many, and other times the only words that seem to fit are someone else’s. Lately these words from The Epic of Gilgamesh have been ringing through my head, as late last week my grandfather and uncle (father and son) both died of separate illnesses within 10 hours of each other. So, maybe today, after reading the above, you’ll go hold a hand, or hug someone or just smile at someone who looks like they could use it.

And also of note, two lovely books out of late that you might want to check out:

In the latest “Off Book” feature, PBS explores the work of two unique artists who use the streets as their canvas: Olek, who wraps everyday objects (and even people) in layers of colorful crochet, and Swoon, who pastes large-scale paper drawings on peeling city walls and in public spaces. Equally at home in museums and galleries, both artists create installations that challenge the formats of traditional art spaces. With powerful layers of meaning, beautiful aesthetics, and unique media, these two prolific creators are pushing the boundaries of contemporary art.

Oh, and thanks so much for the super kind emails, comments and Tweets to my last two posts. They have not gone unnoticed, and have warmed my heart lately at a time when it needs a little extra warming. Just got one of the phone calls I’ve been expecting, which was only joyous as it signals the end of someone I’ll miss dearly’s pain. And currently the screensaver on my phone is my teeny tiny little niece smiling, ever reminding me that things ebb and flow, from happy to sad to happy again. As they will always.