A tale of one day workshops.

One day workshops weren’t my plan. When I began this whole venture way back in 2013 I really wanted the togetherness of a multi-day retreat. I wanted to make sure that people had the time to get to know one another and really form friendships – and my theory was, that that happens over breakfast. Which it does! The friendships that have formed over the years are a big part of the magic of the retreat. Community has been created.

I think I thought that it wasn’t possible to create community in a single day but as is often the case I was wrong about a couple of things.

Firstly, I think what this series of one-day workshops I just ran with Anna Maltz taught me, was that I was selling one-day workshops short. We decided to run them because I was bringing Anna out from the UK, and I didn’t want to “waste” her by not sharing her knitting skills and styling more widely than at the retreat. And so we tried to make the one day-ers a little bit like the retreat. We started early, and we finished late, and we ate together, and there was space for chat.

But they were totally wonderful! Each one of them in a different space with different women. But women, who were of course, the same types of women. They were women who really care about making. And what I saw was, not that we were creating community in a day, BUT that we already were a community who kindof knew one another, maybe though passing one another on Instagram or Ravelry. These one day workshops meant that we got to connect in person. I got to meet people I only “knew” from online and I got to catch up with people I knew in person, for the first time in ages. This is totally obvious now I've seen it, but it was a subtle new joy that permeated all of these days for me as we travelled.

Chat was a big part of the day, and the interesting thing that I heard time and again was that you didn’t necessarily have the making community you would like, in your everday life. Either you didn’t know other knitters, or if you did they were a little old school, and were the kind of knitter who believed that there was a correct way to do things AND that it was OK to tell you that you were doing it all wrong. Which of course we all know is totally unacceptable crazy person behaviour. I don’t know why I was so surprised, but I was. Not about the crazy person behaviour but rather that so very many of you make in isolation.

So tell me about it. Do you know others in who knit/sew/quilt/dye? Do you know others who make in real life? Or are your making mates mainly online???

Felicia x

PS. If you have nothing to do this Saturday Oct 15th, I'm teaching full day of Hand Quilting in the same Barn these beautiful photos were taken and we are almost sold out! Food is supplied by the lovely Tash who restored this beautiful barn and much of it comes from their property. Last time we got to eat their pig! Can't get more local than that. You can find all details and the last ticket or two on Tash's website A Plot In Common.

PPS. All of these photos are from the first workshop we ran simply because they are all I have edited at this time AND I killed my camera as I often do when I am on the road. It is now in the shop.

PPPS. Two of The Craft Sessions At Home winners are yet to contact me with their addresses. So if you left a comment then go check out whether you were picked.

Why connection? And some winners!

Around retreat time I end up thinking about the idea of connection a lot, because each year I realise anew that connection is the main reason why people come. Yes, they come for a weekend away, and yes the classes are awesome, and the food fabulous, but that isn't where the magic is. The magic is in what happens when you put a room of people together who have a shared understanding of the joy of making.

Connection is a word I love and a word I use often - it is why I do what I do. And yet, connection is a word that gets thrown around a lot in our culture. It is used to advertise mobile phones and banks and schools and government programs. It's used because connection is something we all look for and crave. We need it to live a good life. As Brene says - we are wired for connection. And yet, while I love it, when I read it in someone's marketing or magazine article, it can feel a little empty. A little marketing-y. Which makes me a little sad, because really, connection is the secret sauce of life.

To me, feeling connected means feeling heard, seen and understood. And feeling those things aboutsomeone else. Every year I am reminded of how real the word connection is in the context of the retreat. It is not just an empty word. The reality of it is palpable; everyone arrives on the Friday with open hearts ready to celebrate this wonderful life giving thing we share. And for that I am truly grateful.

In our everyday lives when we are thrust into a group of people we don't know, we generally look for people who are in our tribe to connect with. We guess that they will share some of our values and passions. We look at the visible markers we can see to tell us something about the person before us. Simple markers like the way someone is dressed, their expressions, their hairstyle, whether they are good at eye contact, their posture, their age group all tell us something about who it is that we are speaking to. However, often those very same markers that draw us to some people can also cause us to make judgements that mean we deny ourselves rich and rewarding relationships with a broader demographic that those people we instantly recognise as "our people".

To make my point I thought I would give you a very simple example of me being a lazy but judgemental arse. - There is a woman I met two years ago who looks crotchety all. the. time. For the first year or so I knew her, I avoided conversations that were deeper than hi because she looked so grumpy. And yet when I was thrown together with her in a room on a project I discovered that she is really really friendly and open and kind. I can hear my grandmother shouting "book" and "cover" and she is right. I should have taken the time a year earlier. It would have involved me investing an extra three minutes of my time in the initial phase of knowing her to figure out who she was.

Moving on from my shortsightedness.

What is amazing about a retreat based around a shared understanding support and joy making give us, is that we know the each and every person there has a common understanding of something fundamental about us, something that is somehow deeply personal and deeply universal. They have felt it too! They understand why we want to make, rather than buy something. They understand how our fingers are connected to our hearts.

It's like a shorthand way of getting to know one another. Knowing something that fundamental about someone, gives us a wonderful base with which to start connecting to them on other levels. This shared understanding means there is a conversation that can be had that is more open and vulnerable than a normal introductory conversation can be; we know a part of what makes that other person tick, regardless of their mode of dress, their age, body language and their possible tribe.

I know I'm being a little repetitive but for that I am truly grateful.

My apologies for the delay in getting the prizes assigned for our giveaway the other day. I've finally read all the wonderful, thoughtful comments on The Craft Sessions At Home post where I asked you about community and craft. I've picked a few to share with you here - but I really wish I had more than five prizes to give away. The comments made my heart sing and I encourage you to go read them with a cup of tea if you have a moment. Thank you so much for playing along.

The comments from the five people who have won prizes are listed below. If you find your quote here then please email me at admin@thecraftsessions.com with your full name and address and I will get them sent out to you. My apologies for not emailing you to let you know. My system has eaten some of your email addresses.

Felicia x

 

Connection Quote 1 - from kiran

I started knitting just a few months ago, and found it a way to soothe myself and "knit up" the unravelledness of my life. But the reaches of its healing keep surprising me. I found myself in the last few days not anxiously averting my eyes from acquaintances I pass, but instead meeting them with a smile. Something about living in my hands a bit more and not just my head, is helping me stand more solidly in my own being. I also find my eyes scanning for knitwear. My desire to talk about it is stronger than my anxiety. I feel the words come to my lips and the urge to speak overpowers my hesitation. "Your scarf is beautiful!" "What a lovely jumper! Is I handmade?" I have found a secret language which, in spite of myself, is breaking the barrier I saw between myself and others. I'm becoming human again. Woven in. Thankyou, fibres and needles. Thankyou, my hands. Thankyou, life, for the spark in me that made me want to knit.

Connection Quote 2 - From Sally

The community created by being a maker is cyclical & spans generations I think; with everything we make we are connected to those from whom we have learnt our crafts; we connect with those who are the recipients of what we make & also those who influence, inspire & generally hang out with us while we're making & then there are the connections we make with those to whom we pass our knowledge & skill. I feel this & think about every time I pick up every project I work on & consequently altho I work alone I am never lonely.

Connection Quote 3 - from Ellen

It seems I am not alone in using creative hobbies as a social support in meeting people and making community - I am very shy and introverted, but knitting and spinning provide a common ground to share with others when forming early friendships. I had the privilege of living just blocks from a brand new yarn store a few years back, and the inter-generational community fostered there changed the way I viewed my neighborhood and my friend group. I have also used knitting as a way to connect with and build community as a way to express emotion - I have often sent knitted items to welcome new babies, comfort for those experiencing medical difficulties, or send hugs to those in mourning.

Connection Quote 4 - From Karen B

I started knitting to fill my time and my attention on long hours of airplane travel for work. I find it satisfies my urge to be productive and to create - and unbeknownst to me, I make friends nearly everywhere I go! I have had an unexpected number of seatmates tell me that seeing me knit socks brings back warm memories of their grandmother or mother knitting. I've been told folks had no idea anyone knits anymore! Other knitters have pulled out their project and we have compared favorite yarn shops, yarn manufacturers, tools and patterns. And fellow travelers just like to tease me - "will you finish that (sweater, scarf, socks....) by the time we land?" Knitting has started dialogues with people who would otherwise remain distant and that engages me with community in a precious way.

Connection Quote 5 - From Annett

I feel like there really is no way to craft and not connect. Most of us learn a craft, whether it be knitting or sewing, embroidery etc.pp. from someone, and even if that doesn't happen in person, most of us learn a skill or two online, from all the lovely people here sharing their knowledge. And apart from the connections being made in "real life" through crafting together, or people asking about my knitting (seriously, there have been surprising people that would probably never talk to me if it wasn't for my knitting and vice versa), I feel like this online community has given me so much, blogs, Instagram and Ravelry are just part of my online home, people sharing their makes, me sharing mine, asking each other things, giving advice, encouragement, knitting along with each other, I really could not imagine my live without all the companions I carry around in my iPhone with me. :) So until I make it to events like your amazing Craft Sessions, Camp Workroom Social or the Edinburgh Yarn Festival I'll just cherish the community brough to me through the magic thing that is the Internet. Wishing you the loveliest of times with shiny happy people and awesome projects all the way from Germany! :)

More photos and putting off winners!

So it's now 11.18pm and I've finished the photos! Yay but I haven't got through the comments and I have to go to the gym at ridiculous-o'clock because life is interfering with my normally civilised schedule. So I'm not announcing winners of The Craft Sessions At Home giveaway like I promised. I'm adoring reading your stories, and some of you are so gorgeous with them words about that connection stuff you are making my heart happy. So Yay and I'm going to keep reading them without stress tomorrow.

Instead here's a few more photos, and have a read of the comments if you feel like some joy and we will chat next week. Thanks for your patience lovely women.

Felicia x

The Truth of the Wedding Dress

Way back at the start of the year I had this idea that maybe one of the glorious and meaningful ways I could participate actively in my own wedding, was to make my dress. I put it out to the world - ie you lot - and the answer came back, a resounding "Hell yeah!". And so I started making plans. Joyously and excitedly, but with room to turn around and change my mind if I found it wasn't working for me.

I also decided at the time to make the small girls flower person frocks (of which there are four as they all thought they could "help" me by being involved), and my small boy shorts and a shirt...... as well as some kind of magnificent getting-married-backdrop. I'm going to fit all that in, right?

I wasn't far into the process before I dipped into my favourite kind of procrastination that is all about perfection, and getting things wrong. I put the dress-making off. Knowing myself as I do, I knew procrastination would be part of the process, so I didn't worry but I definitely avoided it. And I also started avoiding all the other things I wanted to do as I "should" do the wedding dress first - right?

Should isn't a good place to be is it....

The procrastination grew bigger than just the wedding dress. It spread like some kind of insidious alien life force. I started avoiding creative projects in general. Simple knitting yes, but anything more than that.... - well you may have seen my instagram posts have dropped right off as I have been rolling around in my avoidance.

But I really wanted to make the dress. Because getting married after 15 years to someone I really genuinely like being around, is meaningful. And making your wedding dress for such an event is meaningful. Especially as I spend so much of my life making. Making has meaning.

Sewing those stitches I could be thinking about the upcoming event and what it meant. It would be totally lovely. A joy to make.

The lace is for my frock, the dirty pink flower is Nani Iro linen for the girl's frocks and the leather is shoe samples.

I think I thought that making the dress meant that I was consciously participating in doing something that took time and attention in the leadup to the wedding. Which felt important, because the whole getting married thing was about consciousness for me. Getting married was a way to consciously choose to celebrate the most important relationship of my life. Getting married, not for convenience, or legality, or families, but simply for the ritual of saying "I have loved you for years and I will love you for years to come". The good stuff in life is worth celebrating.

So it felt/feels big. And the avoidance and procrastination was that I wouldn't be able to create something that said that. Talk about pressure!

So where were we? I was sitting in avoidance and procrastination when things shifted, as they do. I moved through that part of it and finally got to the making.

I had the fabric I purchased way back in March from Tessuti, and finally got brave enough to jump in. Jumping off the diving board into the unknowness of the project. Could I actually make the wedding dress? Would it look like I wanted it to? Would reality match the picture I had in my head?

I got brave, and cut out the muslin. I got brave, and decided that this one evening was the evening I was going to start it. I put the knitting aside, and pulled my sewing machine to the front of my desk.

And then.....I started sewing. I sewed either side of the skirt and either side of the top.... I did a few gathers on the bottom of the bodice....

And I HATED IT!! I hated every moment of it. I didn't like the feel of the fabric, or the pressure I felt, or the way the fabric slid off my desk as I was sewing. I could see that I wasn't going to be able to get the fit right or that to do so was going to require fiddling that was way beyond my patience and tolerance level. I didn't like the fact I had to use pins.

I have no idea if I've ever written about it on the blog before but I practice truth-telling as a lifestyle choice. I won't go into detail about it today, but suffice it to say that the trickiest part about it is actually figuring out what the truth of a situation is. You can't tell the truth unless you are certain of what it is. The truth is often not what we think, and often not what we feel. Because generally those two things, when we really examine them, are not the truth. They can guide us to the truth, but only if we do some searching. Trying to be truthful is not a passive way to live, because often the biggest lies we tell, are to ourselves. And to figure out what the truth actually is, is really hard work.

Anyway, circling back to the wedding dress, I hated it for a good couple of hours before I stood up and got a cup of tea. While staring down at my cup, it occurred to me that maybe I wasn't sitting in my truth. Maybe the truth was that I wasn't going to enjoy making my dress. Maybe the truth was that I didn't want to do it. Maybe the truth was that I wasn't the kind of person who wanted to make my dress, even though I thought I should be.

In this situation, it turns out that I had been making up a whole heap of stories. I felt I should participate in the wedding, in this way, in order to make it meaningful. I thought that this was a way I could convey how special this whole thing was to me. I felt like I should because of my crafty experience and values around making. I thought it would be good for me - help me work through some of my stuff- as it was something I hadn't done before. For god's sake, I run a craft retreat. I talk about the meaning and the joy of craft all the time. It is such a present part of my life, why wouldn't it be part of my wedding. It had to be. I mean it was obvious that I should make it.

But it turns out the truth is, I don't want to. I wasn't going to enjoy it, and I really want to enjoy my wedding, including the leadup.

This post is almost the opposite of the I Wish I Could Surf post. It isn't a thought that I had about myself that was stopping me from doing something, it was a thought that I had about who I thought I should be, that was causing me to do something that I didn't want to do.

As soon as I had made the decision not to make it, with the cup of tea in my hand, I instantly felt totally joyful about the dress. Joyful. Full of light.

And unlike the surfing post where I haven't done anything about it yet, this time I have. I've found the truly lovely Francesca who trained in Milan, had an Italian seamstress mother, and lives in a beautiful spot up in the hills. I'm handing her the fabric this week and my life feels light.

Here's to truth, and freedom of all kinds, but especially freedom from "should"!

Felicia x

The Craft Sessions 2016 - Some Photos x

I have some photos for you!

I'm not done yet with my editing though, so here are a couple of beautiful random images, because I really need to get to bed. :)

I'll post some more next week.

Felicia x

PS. If you missed my post from Tuesday there are a couple more photos.....