Craftivism: Party of One

Lately I’ve been getting a lot of emails where people have been frustrated about not having a group to ‘do craftivism’ with. As someone who sent emails just like that until a few years ago, I can tell you, being frustrated is seriously not going to get you very far.

However, action will. And if you really want to call yourself a ‘craftivist,’ it’s not about joining a group or creating a circle or whatever. It’s about YOU wanting something to change. It’s about YOU wanting to make the world a better place. It’s about YOU wanting to make yourself a better person.

You could knit a blanket for soldiers or your sick aunt or homeless dogs or homeless people or refugees or a local family whose house burnt down. You could make a tree cozy for that tree in front of that really ugly abandoned building. You could xstitch a headline or a quote or an image of something that grabbed you and resonated with you about change/changing the world. You could then post it in your bedroom or place it on a park bench or downtown.

Because, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you foment change and/or healing. Like I stated above, to be an activist is to create change. To be a crafter is (in a fundamental way) to heal/soothe/bring joy/teach others. Whenever you combine those two, you are a craftivist.

It’s about bringing light and joy and beauty in your life, the lives of those you know, and/or the lives of those you don’t. There’s no one way to ‘do craftivism’ or be a craftivist. If someone tells you different, then they are actually practicing some other -ism, because it sure as hell isn’t the one that I’ve been writing and talking about all these years.

Sometimes craftivist pieces heal you in the making. It’s important not to overlook that, I think. Because changing you is its own kind of activism, because it’s about not accepting the status quo, it’s about taking the reins and taking charge of your own actions. Because as you change, you become an evangelist for change in others, not only by your words, but also by your actions.

If you’re improving things along the way and including craft in this change, you’re being a craftivist. You’re spreading the good word, in a non-confrontational way, and letting people decide if they want to get on the bandwagon or not. With your enthusiasm, you’re empowering them to make changes and maybe even eventually include their creativity in with those changes.

So, take heart, and don’t get discouraged if you are the only craftivist around. That doesn’t mean you can’t act, it means you have even more reason to act! You have more people to inspire with your actions and have more work to do than those of us in towns with craftivist groups or collectives. Activism brings change. Craft brings healing. Craftivism brings healing change.

So, go forth and be crafty, in whatever way you want to be. You don’t have to call yourself a craftivist even, but do know that with your creations, you’re helping foment change without even opening your mouth. And that, my friend, is a very powerful thing, indeed.

“Why?” or “What Works?”

This morning I woke up wondering lots of “WHYs?” Why do/did people agree with the idea of craftivism? Why do people read what I write? Why do people like what I make? Why do I want to share their thoughts and essays in a craftivism anthology?* Why, why, why, and so on. Let be said, even I felt like a beleaguered parent after awhile after my proverbial inner 5 year old just would not stop with all the “Whys.” The cat was little help, the birds that visit the bird feeder outside also didn’t seem to have any pertinent suggestions, although I swear they did eye me more inquisitively this morning than they usually do.

And I think we all ask ourselves questions like these more often than we admit. But, why don’t we admit it? (There I go again, another why question!) After finally getting diagnosed correctly for the first time in over 30 years, it’s like all these questions no longer linger, they instead serve their true purpose, which is to find the real truth behind the matter, instead of making me want to hide underneath the covers all day and eat biscuits.

In re-discovering the wonderful book Art and Fear this morning, I think I have found an answer. All these “whys” (and the proceeding “What works?”) come because you can never truly pinpoint when the moment is that there was connection of your work with others’ hearts, minds, or other parts. Because that moment exists in another place behind now, which is where you’re working as you’re typing, stitching, painting, drawing, quilting. “Why” is for now, “what works” is for later, but they’re both still not present in the moment of creation, where new things are springing from your hands right now. In creation, we drop the “whys” and the “what works” and are left with what is. And once what is is in the hands of others, we can start to question ourselves (and possibly our sanity) again, but that moment of creation, we continue to come back to, because that’s where all the questions stop and we can truly bring ourselves to the present moment.

From Art and Fear:

In following the path of your heart, the chances are that your work will not be understandable to others. At least not immediately, and not to a wide audience. When the author fed his computer the question, “What works?,” a curious pattern emerged: a consistent delay of about five years between the making of any given negative, and the time when prints from that negative began selling. In fact, one now-popular work was first reproduced in a critical review to illustrate how much weaker the then-new work had become. Performing artists face the added, real-time terror of receiving an instant verdict on their work in person- like the conductor being pummeled with a barrage of rotten fruit halfway through the Paris premier of Rites of Spring, or Bob Dylan being hooted off the stage the first time he appeared live with an electric guitar. No wonder artists so often harbor a depressing sense that their work is going downhill: at any given moment the older work is always more attractive, always better understood.

This is not good. After all, wanting to be understood is a basic need- an affirmation of the humanity you share with everyone around you. The risk is fearsome: in making your real work you hand the audience the power to deny the understanding you seek; you hand them the power to say, “you’re not like us; you’re weird; you’re crazy.”

So, I guess, after all, we should just be happy when we find ourselves asking questions like “why” and “what works” because that means we still care enough to be understood, relavent, connected. But, at the same time, we should also be sure that we let those questions go and just create after awhile, too, because they are just the framework that allow us the knowledge that our goal is to connect with others; the work itself is what allows us to actually do so.


*Yes! (And given the quote above, a good thing it takes several years to get these types of things together, no?) After wanting to do so for a long time, I’m finally announcing that a possible craftivism anthology is in the works. I want to share people’s definitions of craftivism along with their craftivist-related projects, especially from countries outside of the US and the UK. Want to share your story? English not your native language? Or worried that “writing just isn’t your thing?” No worries! All that can be fixed. First, I want to hear your idea of what you’d like to write about! Get in touch!

Beili Liu’s The Mending Project, Wellington Craftivism Collective’s Pussy Riot Protest Fence

Last week, I came across this amazing video over at Colossal of Beili Liu’s new installation The Mending Project at the (what looks like the amazing) Women and Their Work Gallery.

As you can see from the video, Liu is “mending” cloth while sitting underneath hundreds of Chinese scissors, juxtaposing safety with violence, security with the unknown, and what can destroy with what can (literally) mend.

And from another project this week, one done in solidarity with the Pussy Riot Protest Fence done in Melbourne, Australia by Jacquie Tinkler, a yarnbomber and lecture at Charles Stuart University and Casey Jenkins, a yarnbomber and Craft Cartel member, another Pussy Riot Protest Fence by the Wellington Craftivism Collective!

While at first they may not seem connected, when I happened to look at both projects side by side, a striking connection did, in fact, emerge, when I carefully listened to these words spoken by Liu in the video:

I do think when we’re facing uncertainty and concern and that fear, or when we’re facing very difficult situations in life or in this world, the best thing we can do perhaps is something very simple. And if we can do it with persistence and calmness some change can happen.

I like the idea that “persistence” and “calmness” can foment change, as opposed to speed or anger. Steady pressure, fervent belief, process, intent; these things can bring groundswell, create shifts, deepen fault lines. Whether or not we are underneath hundreds of blades or stitching to fences, we are still helping “change””happen.” We are creating our own realities and paths and truths as we continue to sew, to stitch, to change, to mend.

Lisa Congdon’s Handlettered Anais Nin Quote

This came to my attention over in a post over on the fabulous Brain Pickings. If you haven’t checked it out already, you should sign up for the weekly Brain Pickings newsletter, which I was first introduced to via Colleen Wainwright’s newsletter.

You can see more of Lisa’s amazing handlettering work here. Or learn even more about her on her website, lisacongdon.com.

It especially resonated with me because of how I think of craftivism. How, if anything, it connects us. To ourselves, to others, to the world. And sometimes, when I feel broken, it connects me even more so.

This quote, elucidates just how sometimes broken can make you better, which is something I can get behind, can’t you?

5 Questions With… (New Craftivist Interview Series!)

So, while I work on compiling on my various resources for craftivism, I’d love to know more about *yours.* Awhile ago, I asked on Twitter if anyone would like to participate in a new interview series for this here blog, and got some takers, whose answers you’ll see here soon.

Likewise, I was wondering if some of you readers might be interested in sharing your craftivist thoughts and activities? If so, feel free to let me know here in the comments, via @craftivista over on Twitter or by emailing me directly.

Here are the 5 questions I’ll be asking, although you’re free to add your own if there’s something else you’d like to share. Since this series is just starting, the exact questions may evolve somewhat over time. The point here is to share how you interpret craftivism with words and/or photos. I look forward to hearing and sharing your stories!


1. In a sentence, how would you define craftivism?

2. What craftivist projects have you been involved with and/or are you doing now?

3. Has craftivism changed the way you’ve looked at craft and/or activism? If so, how?

4. What causes/organizations do you turn your craftivism efforts towards? How did you come to choose them?

5a. Do you have any craftivist-related resources you’d like to share that helped you become craftivi-tastic? Or that you’d like people to know about?

5b. Have any of your own projects you’d like to share?