In a recent newsletter for the Dreamrocket, Jennifer Marsh mentioned that some quilters from Gee’s Bend were donating a few panels to the Dreamrocket project. She notes in the newsletter that,

“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.