I am writing this by the fire in a 16th century farmhouse in rural England, surrounded by an ancient forest and fields of sheep. In a word, it’s glorious. I’m here in England learning to spin and dye wool, as well as weave and felt. The past week has reminded me of the incredible bifurcation between rural and urban craft, as well as how in reclaiming the domestic, we don’t always acknowledge the wisdom of our elders as much as we should. More on that on Monday, when I return from a few days away in London. Last week my webhost decided to change servers, causing weird things to happen. Thankfully it has been mended by someone very smart, someone I can’t thank enough! This entry by Shannon was for last week, but here it is, the 3rd part of her correspondent duties…I also highly suggest reading about what my friend Arthur is doing, as his walk from London to Rome is almost over!

It’s Friday again and there is no tension in my soul. The day is balmy with little wind gusts that tell us a storm is coming. The wooly bear caterpillars are on the move, and the air smells dry and spicy.
Yesterday we went on a short mushroom walk. There were mushrooms everywhere! russulas, clitocybe, shaggy manes, cowboy’s handkerchiefs (earning their name due to their viscid quality), mushrooms whose names I don’t know.
The air smelled like Matsutake, with its cinnamon perfume, but I had no idea of where to look for them. We haven’t found them here before. Instead we found chantrelles.

Opal has the day off of school, Alice is always home, Mark is hanging out at home this morning, and it all feels so peaceful. I don’t feel driven to do anything in particular, just putter along.

As the temperature drops, my mind turns to the woodstove and to wool clothes (I designed my winter skirt a couple of days ago; now I just have to make it out of one of my blankets.)

It’s nice and cozy, but I know it won’t last! The weather is turning and soon the end of October will be here with it’s proximity to Death, and we’ll all have to contemplate that. Who knows, maybe the coming storm will blow this contentment away like so many fallen leaves.

Here are some thoughts I wrote down the other day. I would love to elaborate on this, but I can’t do it while I feel so placid. It is an ongoing conversation I would love to have more of on the internet. Any thoughts on the following?

I am currently reading Women’s Work: Textile Artists of the Bauhaus. by Sigrid Wortmann Weltge. The Bauhaus School and Workshops were looking for “young people who take a joy in artistic creation and once more begin their life’s work by learning a trade.” These are words that speak to me strongly, and state succinctly the hopes I had when our generation “discovered” the joy of craft.

I had hoped that there would be paradigm shift built into the reemergence of the handmade life for a large number of people, and that this shift on the personal level would lead to changes on a societal level. Several years after the NY women started knitting and the media spread this news like wildfire we can ask, has this happened?

slit tapestry created by Gunta Stölzl at the Bauhaus Weaving Workshop, 1926